Trident
by casey7248
Summary: Finnick's journey from the 65th to the 75th Hunger Games. Takes place in the same universe as Secrets. Finnick/multiple parings, but mostly Finnick/Johanna
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is a prequel to my fanfic _Secrets_. It's totally separate, so you can read this without the other. But there are some references to _Secrets. _It's Finnick's story taking place from the 65th games to Katniss' games. While _Secrets_ is a Katniss/Finnick story, this is Finnick/Annie. He had a love life before her.

* * *

I sit on the beach, watching the waves draw back before they crash at my feet. I wasn't able to sleep last night. In a few hours, I will have to go shower, get dressed in my best clothes, and pray I don't get Reaped. I'm only 14 and haven't applied for tessarae, so it's fair to say the odds are in my favor. And hopefully, someone will volunteer for me. The only thing I'm comfortable killing is fish. District 4 is considered a 'Career district', but we're not as enthusiastic as Districts 1 and 2. That being said, we do have our fair share of volunteers, but we don't have any type of special academy. Just one period in school called Games Training. There's stations to practice skills necessary for the games, and sometimes previous victors from here have come taught lessons.

"Hey, Finn." Somebody says. I turn around, it's Annie Cresta. She's working on some type of net. Even though she's 12, we're pretty good friends, and she's my neighbor. Her mother makes nets. My dad always buys from Mrs. Cresta. I would've sworn that they would end up dating, but my dad recently married a Capitol woman named Juliet. They have a toddler daughter named Dahlia. My mom died in a boating accident when I was a little kid. To this day, I don't know why. My sister, Adrienne doesn't really like Juliet. I don't either.

"Hey, Annie." I stand up and hug her. "How are you?" I ask tentatively. It's her first reaping, and I can tell she's terrified. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dreading it.

"I'm scared, Finn." She pouts. "What if it's me?"

"If it's you, I'll volunteer. Promise." I tell her. There's no way I would let the girl who's practically my kid sister into the Arena alone. Annie sits down next to me, and lays her head on my shoulder. Her dad was crazy, they all say. Rumors say that he didn't die in a rough storm, but that he ended his own his life by drowning himself. I know it bothers Annie, but it's obviously not true. That doesn't stop some of the kids in school from teasing her. I don't know how long we stay there, watching the dark sky turn to purple, then pink, then an orange, until the sun is up. Then Adrienne walks over to us.

"Finnick! You have to get ready! The reaping's in a little more than an hour." Adrienne calls for me. She's twenty, and very happy to not be in the reaping bowl any more. Even though she's a lot older than me, she's almost as close to me as I am with Annie. I tell both of them everything. She basically raised me. Adrienne hugs Annie, and invites her and her mother over for dinner tonight.

I wash my face, put on a pair of clean pants and a buttoned shirt. I go through the effort of even combing my hair. I sit on my bed. This might be the last time I'm in this room ever again. _Don't be stupid, Odair. It's obviously not going to be you, _I tell myself. But still, what if it is me? I shake the negative thoughts out of my head. Adrienne sits down next to me kisses me on the cheek. "Don't worry, okay? Find me after." I can't find my dad. Then I remember, he really doesn't care too much anymore. My mother was very beautiful, but she was from District Six. She looked different. Her bronze hair and brown eyes didn't fit with District 4's dark brown hair and sea green eyes. Her skin was paler too. Like Annie's. After my mother died, my dad found it hard to even look at Adrienne or me. We both have her hair color, but Adrienne looks just like pictures of my mother when she was younger. He spent most of his time on his boat, and at bars. At the age of 8, Adrienne became in charge of the house. And me. She did a pretty good job of helping us grow up.

I walk to the Justice Building, the center of the district. It's about a five minute walk from my house. They prick my finger, and I get in the pen with all the other boys, standing by the 14 year olds. My friend, Sebastian comes up to me and slaps me on the back. "Hey, there Finnick." I greet him back, and then we quiet down. Our District Escort, Ariel comes to the stage. She's wearing a ridiculous Capitol outfit and a matching blue wig.

She plays the same video that's been played every year, and then it's time for the reaping. "Should we start with the boys this time?" Most of the boys cheer. "No, of course not! Ladies first." Ariel sticks her hand into the bowl. She decides on a name. "Lily Alexanders." I don't know who she is, but a older girl- she has to be at least seventeen- comes to the stage. Lily looks like most of the District Four girls with her green eyes and long, bronze hair. She's pretty cute, but I shake those thoughts out of my head. _Totally not the right time for girls, Finnick. _"And now for the boys." She moves her hand around the bowl, and almost picks up a name, but decides on the one next to it. Slowly she unfolds it. "Finnick Odair." She reads.

For a second, I think my heart stops beating. My world crashes down around me. I'm surprised I manage to stay standing. "Oh shit." I whisper. I slowly walk to the stage, still in shock.

"Finn! Finn!" I hear the sounds of Annie being dragged away by Peacekeepers. I can't even bear to look back.

"Well aren't you quite handsome." Ariel smiles at me. It takes everything in me to not roll my eyes. "Finnick Odair and Lily Alexanders, our tributes in the 65th Hunger Games! Shake hands you two." I shake her soft, pale hand. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

We're escorted into the Justice Building. Our families and friends have five minutes to say their goodbyes. My dad, Juliet, Dahlia and Adrienne rush in. Dahlia starts crying, so I kiss her on the forehead, and they leave. I don't say anything to Juliet. I hug my dad. "Try to get a Trident. You can do this." He tells me, and pats me on the back.

Adrienne lets out a choked sob. "I'm betting on you. You're smart, and know how to hunt food. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I'll try. I love you guys." I hug both of them. Just then, Annie Cresta runs in, and my dad and Adrienne are escorted out.

"Finn!" She throws her arms around me. "You can't go! You can't." She stops, as if an idea hits her. "You _have _to win. Promise me that?"

I nod, and hold her tightly. "Of course. I'll try my best." The same Peacekeeper drags her out. A few minutes later, Ariel comes into my room, holding a bag with my things, to bring Lily and I onto the train.

District 4 has had a handful of victors over the last sixty-four years. So we have a surplus of mentors. This year, our mentors are a elderly woman Mags, who looks to be about seventy, and a man named Grant. He's in his twenties, and won the Games a little over ten years ago. He's sort of a legend amongst me and my friends. He's slept with more Capitol women than the average Capitol celebrity. He decides to work with Lily "because she's pretty hot." I sigh in disgust. If I was his age, I would never date a seventeen year old.

Mags brings me into the lounge car. Mags won the 10th Hunger Games. She's been getting salary from the Capitol for a while now, so she doesn't work. But she gives away baskets that she's woven herself to poorer families in the district. They're so well made, that they can carry water. She's really sweet. I'm glad to have her as my mentor. My grandmother used to be pretty good friends with Mags, and she would always come over when I was younger. She stopped coming over when my grandmother died in the same accident that killed my mother.

"Finnick." She hugs me. "It's great to see you again, though I'd have to say the circumstances aren't favorable. I'm sorry, but I'm here to help you."

"It's good to see you. It's been a while." I sit down in one of the large chairs. "So, how does this whole thing work?"

Mags ties her dark brown hair up into a ponytail. I can tell she's trying very hard to cover up the greying. "Well when you get there, you'll meet with your prep team. Your stylist will decide on a look for you, and you'll wear whatever he or she puts you and Lily in for the tribute parade. It's important because that's when then sponsors will first see you. Then, you have three days of training, followed by an individual session, where you need to impress the Gamemakers. Then you get your training score, and give your interview with Caesar Flickerman. And then you have your Games. When you win, you'll have another interview to do."

_If I win. _I don't think the odds are in my favor at all - there are 23 people who will do anything to make sure I'm dead by the end of the month. If that isn't enough to terrify me, I don't know what is. "What makes you so sure I'll win?" I ask Mags. I know District 4 has a handful of victors, but Districts 1 and 2 have so many more. They win it almost every year.

"I just have a feeling. I know that you don't want to kill anything but fish. But you have to defend yourself. Maybe we can get you a trident. Grant can get you a lot of sponsors." Mags smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She stands up. "Well, I'll be in the lounge car." Mags kisses my cheek. "Don't over think things." I try not to. At the dinner on the train, I keep to myself and pick at my food. Grant attempts to start a conversation, but Lily and I aren't too keen on that idea. He ends up talking to Mags and Ariel a little. I excuse myself and head back to my car. I throw my clothes on an oversized chair in the corner of the room, and crawl into bed, just wearing my boxers. I'm not in the mood to deal with that right now. I pull the soft, white blanket over my head, and try to fall asleep. Maybe I can try to pretend this isn't happening to me. But this is my new reality. My only reality.

I wake up from the sun shining in through the curtains. My head is fuzzy, and I can tell I've been tossing and turning all night. I put on a pair of sweatpants, and am too lazy to find a shirt. I walk through the train cars, ignoring the gawks from two purple-haired Capitol attendants. I sit into the breakfast car, and pour myself a glass of coffee. I've never actually had it, I've only ever seen Juliette drink it. I take a taste, and almost spit out the bitter liquid. "You don't drink it plain!" Ariel laughs. She calls over an attendant and tells them to add some milk. She hands me a sugar cube. "Trust me. They taste _fantastic. _When I was a child, I ate them instead of putting them in drinks."

I stir it around the cup. It's actually pretty good now. I think I like coffee. Grant tries to crack some jokes, and Ariel tries a few attempts at conversation, but everyone's too tired. Mags doesn't look up from her tea. I hadn't even noticed, but Lily is probably the most tired out of all of us. She's wearing her reaping dress, and still has her hair the way she wore it. "You alright?" I ask her, as we're walking back to our rooms. We're in the same car, but there's a sliding door in between our rooms. She sits on my bed, and stretches out.

"Your bed is so much more comfortable. I'm gonna sleep here." She tells me in a joking tone. I can tell she knows that if it bothered me, she wouldn't have said it. We live four days away from the Capitol by train, so we're gonna spend a lot of time together on the train. "Well, I'm gonna to put on some real clothes. Be back in a few." Lily really is very good-looking. But we might have to kill each other at one point, so I shut those thoughts off. I put on a tee-shirt I brought with me, and make my bed. She's back a moment later. For a girl, she changes very quickly. Lily's wearing a pale pink tank top, and a pair of jean shorts. It's hard to not stare at her legs. "Tell me about yourself." She smiles, and flops down on the bed.

I wonder if she notices I'm staring at her. I hope she doesn't. I lie down on the bed next to her. "Um. I'm Finnick. I'm fourteen. My dad married a really annoying woman from the Capitol. I don't like her. I'm really good at tying knots. My best friend Annie taught me. She's my neighbor, and we're really close, even though she's twelve." I really don't have anything good to say. I wonder how stupid I sound. "Your turn. Tell me about yourself."

Lily sighs, and tucks her hands behind her head. "Well, I'm Lily. I'm eighteen. I have two older sisters and a twin sister. We're not identical. I was really hoping I wouldn't get reaped. But my mom lost her job, so me and my twin sister had to apply for tessarae a few times. I guess the odds weren't exactly in my favor." She doesn't seem as upset about her whole situation as I would be. As I am. "Wait, your dad married a Capitol woman? How'd that happen?"

I laugh. "Well, a year or two after my mom died, Juliette- that's her name- went vacationing in a hotel outside of 4. She went out on a boat, but got lost and ended up by where my dad goes out fishing. He brought her home, and let her stay until her hovercraft came to pick her up. But she never left. They got married in the Capitol a few years later, and Juliette's been trying to get us to move back there ever since. She just had her own kid, and she's terrified they'll get reaped."

"Does she wear the freakish makeup that they all wear on those television shows?" Lily asks. In school, we studied the Capitol, and we got to watch a Capitol television show. "You know, bright green hair, tattooed breasts, purple skin, other ridiculous alterations?" I've seen some pretty crazy Capitol fashion trends. They dye their skin and hair, tattoo things all over, wear shoes most people can walk in, and spend fortunes on clothes that they'll only wear once.

I shake my head. "No, she's not _that_ bad. She tries to fit in back in 4. Not that it really works. Her hair's black. But she wears a lot of makeup, and dresses crazy. She always wears short, tight dresses and high heels, even if it's cold out, or she's not going anywhere that day. And she always gets these magazines delivered straight from the Capitol with the most ridiculous headlines: Some victor got drunk at a party. A television star has a new boyfriend. Someone who did somebody had a train-wreck of a party, when they made all of their guests wear pink. It's so stupid, but she's obsessed with them. I don't get it."

Lily rolls her eyes. "They watch us fight to the death on a television show. Those magazines seem fairly normal and ethical in comparison. Capitol people are just… I don't know. If I win, I would hate it. Just because you'd have to spend time with them. And I could never ever be able to do that. I hate every single one of them." She takes her words back. "No offense."

I laugh in agreement. "None taken. She treats my sister and I like trash. She thinks we're District low-life nothings. I can't imagine how she'd treat people from outer Districts like 9, 10, 11 and 12." I don't notice that Lily's scooted closer to me while I was talking. She puts her head on my chest and looks up at my expression.

"Is this okay?" She asks me. I nod. She barely knows me, but I guess she trusts me enough. Being in these situations bring people together. "Are you going to try?"

"I have to at least try. So if and when I die, they'll say I died fighting. Or something poetic like that." I tell her.

Lily frowns. "You know, we have a pretty good chance, being from District 4 and all… Besides, we have an even better chance this year. The tributes from 1 are both thirteen."

"They are? Don't they usually volunteer if a little kid's reaped?"

She shrugs. "I guess they didn't. And also, we're pretty good-looking so we might get sponsors that way." We both laugh. "Wanna go do something?" She suggests. Lily and I walk around all of the cars, from front to back. I feel like a little kid again, going exploring. It's actually a lot of fun. By the time we get to the last car, the sun has set. A Capitol attendant comes in, looking for us, saying that we're supposed to be at dinner. We show up and Mags is looking concerned, while Grant is smirking.

"Did you get any?" He asks me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He takes my lack of response as a no. "Well sucks for you." Dinner is delicious, a fish cooked with lemon and butter. We would sometimes eat that on nights where family or friends would come over. It's my favorite meal. This might be the last time I have it. I try to watch the sun as it sets, and memorize the picture. The pink and orange that streaks across the purple-blue sky. My sunsets are limited. I might as well enjoy them. I decide to talk to Grant after dinner. I'd hate to bring back Mags' memories about her games, but Grant's will be fresher in his mind. I knock on the door to his car. "Come in," he tells me. "what do you need? Condoms?" He laughs to himself.

I cross my arms and lean against the wall. I shake my head, and give Grant a small smile. "Not really. I was just wondering, well, how did you win? And what should I try to do? I don't think I'm gonna win, but I wanna at least try-"

Grant cuts me off, "See, that's where you lose. You need to be _confident_. Or at least tell yourself that you are enough, and maybe you'll believe it." He leans back on his bed, and puts his hands behind his head. "I'm gonna be honest with you Finnick. I don't believe in sugar coating. It's for people who can't handle the truth. And you're gonna need to be able to handle it. I killed five people in my Games, and that's just a fact. But what they don't tell you is that it's hard to forgive yourself. Even most of the winners from Districts One and Two feel shitty after. Well that's an understatement. You feel like a monster. I know this mentor- from District 12. He won the Quell. He killed four people, I think. Which isn't a lot considering there were 48 people that year. But he still feels terrible."

"Then what's the point of even trying?" I ask him.

"I was hoping you'd ask that. Well, think of your family. I saw that girl who was crying when they reaped you. She had to get dragged away. Think of how she'll feel when you're dead." _Annie. _She'd… I couldn't do that to her. Grant continues, "I mean it'll probably be hard when you get back. Seriously, all the Capitol women are gonna want you. But do you think you'll be able to kill? Nobody's a victor by chance. We're all _bad people. _And while we might feel a-okay, we were able to kill. Do you think you will?"

"Maybe. If it meant I could go back home. I'm not ready to die." I'm just terribly homesick. I don't know if I actually would be able to, but in the middle of the arena, it's a whole different situation.

Grant comes up to me and pats my back. "That's all you need to win. You have a real chance. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but Lily won't win. She doesn't believe in killing people. Not that believing in that is _bad _by any means, but in the Hunger Games, having those values will get you killed. Now go get some sleep or something." He hands me a foil packet. Great. I thank Grant (for the advice) and walk back to my room. Lily's wearing one of my teeshirts.

"I didn't think you would mind." Lily explains, crossing her legs. I'm pretty tall, but she's almost as tall as me. And that shirt's _way _too short for her. Not that I really mind. She points to the condom in my hand. "What's that?" She asks. I can tell she knows.

"Grant gave it to me. I went to ask him some advice on when we have training." I throw it to her gently, and she catches it.

Lily puts it in the drawer in the nightstand. "We should make good use of that. But not right now." We've only known each other for two days. I yawn. The clock says it's nine. Why am I so tired? I take off my shirt, and sit next to her in bed. She raises an eyebrow at me, and then laughs. "You really sleep in that?"

"No. I don't wanna make you uncomfor-" I realize how stupid that is. I take off my pants, so I'm only wearing my boxers, and sit back down. "Better?" I ask, grinning.

"Much." She says flirtatiously. We both laugh. She reaches up and turns off the light. "Night, Finn." Lily says. I pull the blanket up to my waist. Lily ends up getting wrapped in my arms. I don't think either of us mind.

Before I drift into sleep, I feel Lily press her lips against mine.

* * *

**A/N: **How is this? Should I continue? Like I said, this one stands by itself, but it takes place in the same universe as 'Secrets'.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was studying for my SATs (It's an American test to get into colleges, for those of you who don't know what that is). But anyways, here's the next chapter!

* * *

Lily smacks my head with a fluffy pillow. I groan, and pull the blanket over my head. I'm too tired for this. "What? Too early?" She asks, playfully. I groan in agreement. She shrugs, "Fine then. Go back to sleep." It's no use though. I'm up, and I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep. She lays her head on my chest. I twirl a strand of her brunette hair on my finger. She really is very pretty. I think she kissed me last night, but that might have been a dream. I'm not really sure. Grant happens to choose that moment to burst into the train car.

"Well you two. Save some energy for the arena." I sit up and throw that pillow at him. But he dodges it skillfully. We both stand up, and Grant takes in our lack of substantial clothing - I'm in my boxers and Lily's wearing my shirt. "I bet you two had fun last night. Get changed quick. We have things to do today." Grant waits outside the car, and I think about changing in the bathroom to give Lily her privacy. She really doesn't seem to care that much, and just takes her - well my - shirt off, throwing it on the bed. She rummages through the drawers, and puts on a green shirt that matches the color of her eyes and a pair of short shorts. I've seen Annie's mother scold Annie for wearing clothes that short, but I guess Lily's mother doesn't care, or Lily doesn't care. I throw on some clothes - I don't really care what I wear. "There we go. Come on now, we're going to look at the other tributes that got reaped." Grant brings us into the lounge car that has a gigantic television.

"I really hope there isn't a lot of competition this year." Lily says quietly agree with her. I haven't really thought about killing people, but I guess I would if I needed to. Grant plays us the reaping clips: Districts 12, 11, and 10 have nobody special, as usual. Districts 10 through 12 seem to be the laughing stock of all the districts, since they never win. Twelve has had two victors in the history of the Hunger Games: One of Mags' friends named Ella who won the 12th Hunger Games, and Haymitch Abernathy- whose name I only know because he won the Second Quarter Quell. We learned about him in school. Apparently now he's a drunk guy. There's a few people who look possibly talented: A girl from District 8 that was a volunteer, a boy from District 6 that looks like he's all muscle, and a girl from 3 who doesn't even seen upset to be going into the arena. Both tributes from District 2 seem pretty scary though. Lily was right about the tributes from District 1: They're both thirteen years old, and look young. But I can tell that they're still lethal. They go to an academy to prepare for the games. That in itself is worrying. "Where's Mags?" Lily asks.

Grant responds, "She's still asleep. She's older. She needs her rest." The way he says it isn't condescending or rude at all, he's just stating a fact. "The only ones that stuck out to me were the girl from 8, the boy from 6, the girl from 3, and both from 2 and 1. The ones from District One really worry me. I don't think they'd let thirteen year-olds into the arena unless they were really good." I agree with him, and he makes a good point. I guess know who I need to keep my eye out for then. "You guys should just relax for a bit. Once you get to the Capitol it's going to get pretty stressful."

Lily and I do everything while doing nothing. We play card games, watch television shows, and just talk about everything. Except the games, and the future. That's not even a question whether or not to bring it up. We just don't. On the last night before we reach the Capitol, we just lay together, not ready to face our fate. "You know," she tells me, "I kissed you on the second night. But I don't think you remember. I'd really like to do that again." But this time, I initiate the kiss. I've never kissed anyone before, just because the opportunity has never come up. But this feels right. Her lips are softer than I had imagined, and taste like mint toothpaste. I think I'm doing okay, because I feel her smile into the kiss. When I pull away, she just grins at me, her cheeks flushed. "I think I liked that one better."

I laugh in agreement. "Me too." She curls up her tiny frame against me, and hums quietly of song song I've never heard of. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?" I ask her. Everything about her seems perfect, from her soft wavy hair to her full lips and bright eyes. Her body is perfect too: she's healthy looking and a little muscular. She places her soft hand in mine and shakes her head no. "Well you are." I say, and I kiss Lily's forehead. I lie awake for a while, but she drifts off to sleep fairly quickly. Her rhythmic breathing and the rise and fall of her chest makes me fall asleep in no time at all.

Mags comes in to the room, fairly early to wake us up. She doesn't make any offhand comments about Lily and I curled up, and I appreciate it. Mags just tells us to get dressed quickly, because we'll be in the Capitol train station in less than an hour. I put on my button down shirt from reaping day, and one of the pairs of pants I see in the drawers. When we pull into the station, the crowd goes wild. Tons of insane looking people - some look weirder than the ones in Juliette's magazines - line the streets cheering. I'm sickened. Why root for your favorite kids, if they're gonna die? I try to act happy for the cameras which must be somewhere, filming. The train goes through a glass tunnel, and I see the gigantic buildings that seem to touch the sky. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. I hate to say it - but the Capitol is breathtaking. We're escorted off the train and into the Training Center buildings. Ariel, Grant, Mags and I are staying on the 4th floor. That may not seem like very high up - the building goes to floor 12, but the tallest building back in Four is the Justice building. It has three floors, and a basement. District four is considered pretty wealthy, in comparison to the other districts, but our houses aren't large in height, they're large in how big the rooms are. The victor's village homes have two floors, which is a rarity.

The "apartment" isn't like anything I've ever seen. At home, my house is pretty big. But the living room area is about the size of half my house. There are tall ceilings, and big floor-to-ceiling windows, so we can see the whole Capitol. There's buttons and remotes for everything. "Isn't it lovely?" Ariel gushes, "And even though you'll only be here for a week, you get to live in luxury. And you get to see the Capitol!" I think I see Grant roll his eyes. Mags and Grant - they look much less enthusiastic to be here. Not that I blame them for that. Lily's rushed off to be made over by her prep team. Girls take a lot longer than guys to be 'Capitol-ready'. About an hour later, I'm brought downstairs to be washed and shaved by a prep team. I don't have any facial hair, and they let me keep all my body hair. I still have to strip down in front of them, and I think that's uncomfortable. They don't seem to mind as much as I do.  
I soak in a tub with a green liquid, and then I'm introduced to a tale, pale man with bright pink spiky hair and thick black eye makeup. She introduces herself as my stylist, Celia. She sits me down on a chair. "Well, you're from District Four. And their specialty is fishing. So this year, it was pretty easy with what your costume should be. We're doing clothing that look like it's from the sea." She pulls out a rack. Celia shows me what I'll be wearing. They have me in what appears to be a plain white v-neck tee shirt. When I look closer, I see tiny ripples in the fabric. Like the ocean. There's also a pair of green pants that match Annie's eyes. Annie. I really miss her. "Like it?" Celia asks me. I nod and give her a small smile.

I see Lily about a half hour later. They put a lot of makeup on her. She still looks great, just in a different way. Her hair is in loose waves down her back. She wears the same color dress as my pants and it has that ripple pattern on her clothes. I feel eyes on us. "Why is everyone staring at us?" I ask her.

Lily shrugs. "We're dressed sort of normally compared to everyone else, but that's not it. And they're not looking at me. Finnick. You're hot. Accept it." I stare at her for a little, unsure how to react. Did she just call me hot? I never really cared about my looks. I am physically fit from fishing and swimming all the time, but I don't exactly have girls throwing themselves at me.

"They're looking at you." I tell her. Lily doesn't have time to respond, because we're shoved onto a horse, and the Tribute Parade begins. We're the fourth chariot. When the horses move, the clothes move with the wind. We look like the waves in the ocean. Lily and I smile and wave at them. When the chariots stop, I think I see the boy from 7 roll his eyes. President Snow makes a short speech about how courageous we all are, and Happy Hunger Games! Even though he's the most powerful man in the world, he seems untrustworthy, and just plain old evil. But then again, I guess the wealthy, extravagant Capitol citizens don't see him that way. They've never had to worry about being reaped. The chariots are brought out of the stadium.

Ariel, Mags and Grant come over to us. Ariel is gushing about how the crowd "simply adored us" and Mags just smiles supportively. Grant pats me on the back. The four of us, and Lily and my stylists have a large dinner after, with so many different types of food that I really can't keep track. I don't even know what half of the foods are. They're all delicious, and everyone seems to be enjoying it.

After dinner, I shower and change into sweatpants and some shirt lying around. I'm too stressed to deal with fashion right now. I walk into the living room, and see Grant on the couch talking to someone. I can't see who it is, but I can tell it's not Mags or Ariel. Grant runs a hand through his hair. "I'm scared to confront him about it- Yeah, but I can't keep doing this… I just can't deal with this anymore… I know, I know. I've heard that a thousand times… This is so screwed up… Don't hate me for saying this, but you got it lucky." I decide to walk into the living room. Grant sees me and nods, smiling. "Hey Finnick, come here. This is a good friend of mine."  
I sit down next to Grant on the couch, and smile nervously at the man grant was talking to. He looks familiar, I know he's a mentor. But I can't remember who he is, or which Games he won. He looks a few years older than Grant, but very tired. "My name's Haymitch. I'm a mentor." Oh. That explains it. Everyone remembers the winner of the Quarter Quell. Haymitch turns to Grant. "Look, it obviously sucks. But the alternative is worse, trust me."

"Haymitch was explaining to me that it's easier to be a victor during the Games if you're in the Capitol, and not back at home." Grant explains, but he doesn't look me in the eyes. I can tell he's lying. I don't ask. Mentors are weird. District 4 is pretty kind to them, but from what I've heard, in other districts, a lot of people are scared of them. They have killed people. I was a toddler when Grant was in his Games, so if I've seen them, I don't remember. I can't imagine him killing anyone. Then again, I can't imagine Mags killing anyone either. There's never been a victor in Hunger Games history that's won a Games with clean hands.

"So, Finnick?" Haymitch asks me. He looks tired, and a little drunk. But he's nowhere near as drunk and crazy as everyone makes him out to be. "Do you have a strategy? Are you good at using any type of weapon?"

I shrug. "I know how to fish. That's because I'm from District 4. I know how to make nets and fire, using ropes for things, and I can use spears and tridents. I can use knives too, but I can't throw them."

Haymitch nods, thinking about something. He turns to Grant, "I've seen spears. I don't know about tridents. Anyways, If you could-"

Grant laughs, cutting him off. "Wrong place, wrong time. Finn, you should head to bed. It's getting pretty late, and you have training in the morning." I leave them alone. As I'm walking back to my room, I hear Mags and Lily talking in hushed tones about something. I guess nobody really has much to say to me. I think about what Grant said to me about Lily - about how she won't win. I wonder if he feels the same way about me. I don't think I could kill anyone. Just having to live with that seems really painful. I crawl into bed, and try not to think about the arena. Or the Hunger Games. I just try to get a good night's sleep. It takes me a while, and it feels like as soon as my eyes close, Ariel comes in, telling me in her over-enthusiastic voice that it's time to wake up.

I stumble blindly to the bathroom, and try to wash my face and comb my hair. I put on the uniform that all the tributes wear- Lily and I have a '4' on the sleeves of ours. I grab a piece of fruit called a peach - it's sweet and delicious and grown in District 11, and Ariel brings the two of us downstairs. Almost everyone is there already.

I look around at all the stations. I really don't want to make friends. I decide to walk over to knot-tying. The Capitol attendant tells me about different knots, but I don't really listen. I already know. When I was younger, I would teach Annie how to swim, and she would teach me how to turn knots into nets. Whenever I was impatient, or bored, or scared, I would just tie knots to keep my mind distracted. I decide to look at everyone else, and what they're doing. Both of the thirteen year-olds from 1 are throwing knives. They aren't that good. I wonder what they're good at, if anything. The girl and boy from 2 are talking to Lily and they're giggling about something by the weightlifting station. I wonder if she's going to join the Careers. The girl from 3 and boy from 6 are both and hand-to-hand combat. They're really good. I go back to tying my knots, and don't even notice someone sit down next to me. "I don't even know why they try to fight now. There's tons of time for that." I turn around, and the girl from District 8 is talking to me. She reminds me of Annie. I wouldn't be able to say why, but every girl reminds me of Annie. I'm not sure why. I tell myself its because I miss my best friend, but I don't know if that's the whole truth. "I'm Emily." She says.

I smile at her, looking up from my knots. She blushes. "I'm Finnick." I tell Emily. She seems nice. Training goes by quickly. During lunch, I decide I'm going to sit next to Emily, but Lily has other ideas.

"Finnick!" She calls my name, so high-pitched it hurts my ears. "Come sit with us." I take my tray of food, and sit down next to her. She's acquainted herself with the tribute from Districts 1 and 2. I go along with their conversation, nodding and adding half-hearted comments to make it look like I care. I don't want to make allies. There's only one winner.

* * *

I try to learn skills during training. When it's time for my private session, I go 8th. I throw knives, and make some ropes. At the end of my session, I use the trident to spear through some mannequins. They seemed pleased. I get a nine. Lily gets a six. We don't talk about it. The next day, Mags helps Lily with her "sweet" interview tactic. Grant decides I should do "funny and flirty". Celia, my stylist puts me in a pair of black pants and a blue-green button-down shirt. Lily goes before me. She's all smiles and giggles. I know she's not really like that.

Then, it's my turn. I shake hands with the famous Caesar Flickerman. Like every year, he's wearing a sparkly blue suit that matches the color of his hair. He introduces me, we talk about my time in the Capitol, and my high training score. "So Finnick," Caesar says, leaning forward in his chair, "Tell me. Is there a special girl back home?" I shrug. "Come on, you're a handsome young man! Not even that girl who yelled out to you when you were reaped?" The crowd cheers. Annie.

"Well, I guess. I mean if anyone, it would be her. That girl, her names Annie. And I really care about her. She means the world to me." The crowd goes wild. When I get off the stage, Lily grabs my collar.

"What the hell? Do I mean anything to you?" She asks me. "We've kissed - we actually kiss a lot - we sleep in the same bed for crying out loud! And you're strung up on some twelve year-old back home." I look around, and all the other tributes who are still waiting, are staring at us.

I sigh, leaning back on a wall. "Look, Lily. I like you. I really do. I've known you for what- a week? And this is a fight to the death. There's only one winner. Even if we were together, that would end because two weeks from now, one or both of us will be dead." I look over and see Haymitch clapping quietly. Lily shoots him a look. We say our goodbyes over dinner. Mags kisses me on the forehead. Grant tells me to kill it, no pun intended. Ariel simply says good luck. Late that night, I hear someone come in. It's Lily. She just walks over to me and kisses me.

"I can't sleep." She explains. "I need you."

I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Lily - I have someone back home I really care about. I can't kiss you again."

She frowns. "Why do you care about that now? You might not even see her again. Besides, she'll never have to know." For some reason, she makes sense. And when she asks, "Make love to me?" I don't say no.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like that? Reviews = love!

You should check out my other fic, Secrets. It takes place 8 years after this, and it's from Katniss' point of view.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to update, I had really bad writer's block. But here you go!

* * *

Lily smacks my head with a fluffy pillow. I groan, and pull the blanket over my head. I'm too tired for this. "What? Too early?" She asks, playfully. I groan in agreement. She shrugs, "Fine then. Go back to sleep." It's no use though. I'm up, and I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep. She lays her head on my chest. I twirl a strand of her brunette hair on my finger. She really is very pretty. I think she kissed me last night, but that might have been a dream. I'm not really sure. Grant happens to choose that moment to burst into the train car.

"Well you two. Save some energy for the arena." I sit up and throw that pillow at him. But he dodges it skillfully. We both stand up, and Grant takes in our lack of substantial clothing - I'm in my boxers and Lily's wearing my shirt. "I bet you two had fun last night. Get changed quick. We have things to do today." Grant waits outside the car, and I think about changing in the bathroom to give Lily her privacy. She really doesn't seem to care that much, and just takes her - well my - shirt off, throwing it on the bed. She rummages through the drawers, and puts on a green shirt that matches the color of her eyes and a pair of short shorts. I've seen Annie's mother scold Annie for wearing clothes that short, but I guess Lily's mother doesn't care, or Lily doesn't care. I throw on some clothes - I don't really care what I wear. "There we go. Come on now, we're going to look at the other tributes that got reaped." Grant brings us into the lounge car that has a gigantic television.

"I really hope there isn't a lot of competition this year." Lily says quietly agree with her. I haven't really thought about killing people, but I guess I would if I needed to. Grant plays us the reaping clips: Districts 12, 11, and 10 have nobody special, as usual. Districts 10 through 12 seem to be the laughing stock of all the districts, since they never win. Twelve has had two victors in the history of the Hunger Games: One of Mags' friends named Ella who won the 12th Hunger Games, and Haymitch Abernathy- whose name I only know because he won the Second Quarter Quell. We learned about him in school. Apparently now he's a drunk guy. There's a few people who look possibly talented: A girl from District 8 that was a volunteer, a boy from District 6 that looks like he's all muscle, and a girl from 3 who doesn't even seen upset to be going into the arena. Both tributes from District 2 seem pretty scary though. Lily was right about the tributes from District 1: They're both thirteen years old, and look young. But I can tell that they're still lethal. They go to an academy to prepare for the games. That in itself is worrying. "Where's Mags?" Lily asks.

Grant responds, "She's still asleep. She's older. She needs her rest." The way he says it isn't condescending or rude at all, he's just stating a fact. "The only ones that stuck out to me were the girl from 8, the boy from 6, the girl from 3, and both from 2 and 1. The ones from District One really worry me. I don't think they'd let thirteen-year-olds into the arena unless they were really good." I agree with him, and he makes a good point. I guess know who I need to keep my eye out for then. "You guys should just relax for a bit. Once you get to the Capitol it's going to get pretty stressful."

Lily and I do everything while doing nothing. We play card games, watch television shows, and just talk about everything. Except the games, and the future. That's not even a question whether or not to bring it up. We just don't. On the last night before we reach the Capitol, we just lay together, not ready to face our fate. "You know," she tells me, "I kissed you on the second night. But I don't think you remember. I'd really like to do that again." But this time, I initiate the kiss. I've never kissed anyone before, just because the opportunity has never come up. But this feels right. Her lips are softer than I had imagined, and taste like mint toothpaste. I think I'm doing okay, because I feel her smile into the kiss. When I pull away, she just grins at me, her cheeks flushed. "I think I liked that one better."

I laugh in agreement. "Me too." She curls up her tiny frame against me, and hums quietly of song song I've never heard of. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?" I ask her. Everything about her seems perfect, from her soft wavy hair to her full lips and bright eyes. Her body is perfect too: she's healthy looking and a little muscular. She places her soft hand in mine and shakes her head no. "Well you are." I say, and I kiss Lily's forehead. I lie awake for a while, but she drifts off to sleep fairly quickly. Her rhythmic breathing and the rise and fall of her chest makes me fall asleep in no time at all.

Mags comes in to the room, fairly early to wake us up. She doesn't make any offhand comments about Lily and I curled up, and I appreciate it. Mags just tells us to get dressed quickly, because we'll be in the Capitol train station in less than an hour. I put on my button down shirt from reaping day, and one of the pairs of pants I see in the drawers. When we pull into the station, the crowd goes wild. Tons of insane looking people - some look weirder than the ones in Juliette's magazines - line the streets cheering. I'm sickened. Why root for your favorite kids, if they're gonna die? I try to act happy for the cameras which must be somewhere, filming. The train goes through a glass tunnel, and I see the gigantic buildings that seem to touch the sky. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. I hate to say it - but the Capitol is breathtaking. We're escorted off the train and into the Training Center buildings. Ariel, Grant, Mags and I are staying on the 4th floor. That may not seem like very high up - the building goes to floor 12, but the tallest building back in Four is the Justice building. It has three floors, and a basement. District four is considered pretty wealthy, in comparison to the other districts, but our houses aren't large in height, they're large in how big the rooms are. The victor's village homes have two floors, which is a rarity.

The "apartment" isn't like anything I've ever seen. At home, my house is pretty big. But the living room area is about the size of half my house. There are tall ceilings, and big floor-to-ceiling windows, so we can see the whole Capitol. There's buttons and remotes for everything. "Isn't it lovely?" Ariel gushes, "And even though you'll only be here for a week, you get to live in luxury. And you get to see the Capitol!" I think I see Grant roll his eyes. Mags and Grant - they look much less enthusiastic to be here. Not that I blame them for that. Lily's rushed off to be made over by her prep team. Girls take a lot longer than guys to be 'Capitol-ready'. About an hour later, I'm brought downstairs to be washed and shaved by a prep team. I don't have any facial hair, and they let me keep all my body hair. I still have to strip down in front of them, and I think that's uncomfortable. They don't seem to mind as much as I do.

I soak in a tub with a green liquid, and then I'm introduced to a tale, pale man with bright pink spiky hair and thick black eye makeup. She introduces herself as my stylist, Celia. She sits me down on a chair. "Well, you're from District Four. And their specialty is fishing. So this year, it was pretty easy with what your costume should be. We're doing clothing that look like it's from the sea." She pulls out a rack. Celia shows me what I'll be wearing. They have me in what appears to be a plain white v-neck tee shirt. When I look closer, I see tiny ripples in the fabric. Like the ocean. There's also a pair of green pants that match Annie's eyes. Annie. I really miss her. "Like it?" Celia asks me. I nod and give her a small smile.

I see Lily about a half hour later. They put a lot of makeup on her. She still looks great, just in a different way. Her hair is in loose waves down her back. She wears the same color dress as my pants and it has that ripple pattern on her clothes. I feel eyes on us. "Why is everyone staring at us?" I ask her.

Lily shrugs. "We're dressed sort of normally compared to everyone else, but that's not it. And they're not looking at me. Finnick. You're hot. Accept it." I stare at her for a little, unsure how to react. Did she just call me hot? I never really cared about my looks. I am physically fit from fishing and swimming all the time, but I don't exactly have girls throwing themselves at me.

"They're looking at you." I tell her. Lily doesn't have time to respond, because we're shoved onto a horse, and the Tribute Parade begins. We're the fourth chariot. When the horses move, the clothes move with the wind. We look like the waves in the ocean. Lily and I smile and wave at them. When the chariots stop, I think I see the boy from 7 roll his eyes. President Snow makes a short speech about how courageous we all are, and Happy Hunger Games! Even though he's the most powerful man in the world, he seems untrustworthy, and just plain old evil. But then again, I guess the wealthy, extravagant Capitol citizens don't see him that way. They've never had to worry about being reaped. The chariots are brought out of the stadium.

Ariel, Mags and Grant come over to us. Ariel is gushing about how the crowd "simply adored us" and Mags just smiles supportively. Grant pats me on the back. The four of us, and Lily and my stylists have a large dinner after, with so many different types of food that I really can't keep track. I don't even know what half of the foods are. They're all delicious, and everyone seems to be enjoying it.

After dinner, I shower and change into sweatpants and some shirt lying around. I'm too stressed to deal with fashion right now. I walk into the living room, and see Grant on the couch talking to someone. I can't see who it is, but I can tell it's not Mags or Ariel. Grant runs a hand through his hair. "I'm scared to confront him about it- Yeah, but I can't keep doing this… I just can't deal with this anymore… I know, I know. I've heard that a thousand times… This is so screwed up… Don't hate me for saying this, but you got it lucky." I decide to walk into the living room. Grant sees me and nods, smiling. "Hey Finnick, come here. This is a good friend of mine."  
I sit down next to Grant on the couch, and smile nervously at the man grant was talking to. He looks familiar, I know he's a mentor. But I can't remember who he is, or which Games he won. He looks a few years older than Grant, but very tired. "My name's Haymitch. I'm a mentor." Oh. That explains it. Everyone remembers the winner of the Quarter Quell. Haymitch turns to Grant. "Look, it obviously sucks. But the alternative is worse, trust me."

"Haymitch was explaining to me that it's easier to be a victor during the Games if you're in the Capitol, and not back at home." Grant explains, but he doesn't look me in the eyes. I can tell he's lying. I don't ask. Mentors are weird. District 4 is pretty kind to them, but from what I've heard, in other districts, a lot of people are scared of them. They have killed people. I was a toddler when Grant was in his Games, so if I've seen them, I don't remember. I can't imagine him killing anyone. Then again, I can't imagine Mags killing anyone either. There's never been a victor in Hunger Games history that's won a Games with clean hands.

"So, Finnick?" Haymitch asks me. He looks tired, and a little drunk. But he's nowhere near as drunk and crazy as everyone makes him out to be. "Do you have a strategy? Are you good at using any type of weapon?"

I shrug. "I know how to fish. That's because I'm from District 4. I know how to make nets and fire, using ropes for things, and I can use spears and tridents. I can use knives too, but I can't throw them."

Haymitch nods, thinking about something. He turns to Grant, "I've seen spears. I don't know about tridents. Anyways, If you could-"

Grant laughs, cutting him off. "Wrong place, wrong time. Finn, you should head to bed. It's getting pretty late, and you have training in the morning." I leave them alone. As I'm walking back to my room, I hear Mags and Lily talking in hushed tones about something. I guess nobody really has much to say to me. I think about what Grant said to me about Lily - about how she won't win. I wonder if he feels the same way about me. I don't think I could kill anyone. Just having to live with that seems really painful. I crawl into bed, and try not to think about the arena. Or the Hunger Games. I just try to get a good night's sleep. It takes me a while, and it feels like as soon as my eyes close, Ariel comes in, telling me in her over-enthusiastic voice that it's time to wake up.

I stumble blindly to the bathroom, and try to wash my face and comb my hair. I put on the uniform that all the tributes wear- Lily and I have a '4' on the sleeves of ours. I grab a piece of fruit called a peach - it's sweet and delicious and grown in District 11, and Ariel brings the two of us downstairs. Almost everyone is there already.

I look around at all the stations. I really don't want to make friends. I decide to walk over to knot-tying. The Capitol attendant tells me about different knots, but I don't really listen. I already know. When I was younger, I would teach Annie how to swim, and she would teach me how to turn knots into nets. Whenever I was impatient, or bored, or scared, I would just tie knots to keep my mind distracted. I decide to look at everyone else, and what they're doing. Both of the thirteen year-olds from 1 are throwing knives. They aren't that good. I wonder what they're good at, if anything. The girl and boy from 2 are talking to Lily and they're giggling about something by the weightlifting station. I wonder if she's going to join the Careers. The girl from 3 and boy from 6 are both and hand-to-hand combat. They're really good. I go back to tying my knots, and don't even notice someone sit down next to me. "I don't even know why they try to fight now. There's tons of time for that." I turn around, and the girl from District 8 is talking to me. She reminds me of Annie. I wouldn't be able to say why, but every girl reminds me of Annie. I'm not sure why. I tell myself its because I miss my best friend, but I don't know if that's the whole truth. "I'm Emily." She says.

I smile at her, looking up from my knots. She blushes. "I'm Finnick." I tell Emily. She seems nice. Training goes by quickly. During lunch, I decide I'm going to sit next to Emily, but Lily has other ideas.

"Finnick!" She calls my name, so high-pitched it hurts my ears. "Come sit with us." I take my tray of food, and sit down next to her. She's acquainted herself with the tribute from Districts 1 and 2. I go along with their conversation, nodding and adding half-hearted comments to make it look like I care. I don't want to make allies. There's only one winner.

I try to learn skills during training. When it's time for my private session, I go 8th. I throw knives, and make some ropes. At the end of my session, I use the trident to spear through some mannequins. They seemed pleased. I get a nine. Lily gets a six. We don't talk about it. The next day, Mags helps Lily with her "sweet" interview tactic. Grant decides I should do "funny and flirty". Celia, my stylist puts me in a pair of black pants and a blue-green button-down shirt. Lily goes before me. She's all smiles and giggles. I know she's not really like that.

Then, it's my turn. I shake hands with the famous Caesar Flickerman. Like every year, he's wearing a sparkly blue suit that matches the color of his hair. He introduces me, we talk about my time in the Capitol, and my high training score. "So Finnick," Caesar says, leaning forward in his chair, "Tell me. Is there a special girl back home?" I shrug. "Come on, you're a handsome young man! Not even that girl who yelled out to you when you were reaped?" The crowd cheers. Annie.

"Well, I guess. I mean if anyone, it would be her. That girl, her names Annie. And I really care about her. She means the world to me." The crowd goes wild. When I get off the stage, Lily grabs my collar.

"What the hell? Do I mean anything to you?" She asks me. "We've kissed - we actually kiss a lot - we sleep in the same bed for crying out loud! And you're strung up on some twelve year-old back home." I look around, and all the other tributes who are still waiting, are staring at us.

I sigh, leaning back on a wall. "Look, Lily. I like you. I really do. I've known you for what- a week? And this is a fight to the death. There's only one winner. Even if we were together, that would end because two weeks from now, one or both of us will be dead." I look over and see Haymitch clapping quietly. Lily shoots him a look. We say our goodbyes over dinner. Mags kisses me on the forehead. Grant tells me to kill it, no pun intended. Ariel simply says good luck. Late that night, I hear someone come in. It's Lily. She just walks over to me and kisses me.

"I can't sleep." She explains. "I need you."

I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Lily - I have someone back home I really care about. I can't kiss you again."

She frowns. "Why do you care about that now? You might not even see her again. Besides, she'll never have to know." For some reason, she makes sense. And when she asks, "Make love to me?" I don't say no.

* * *

I wake up feeling calm. I did get a few hours of sleep, but my calmness is replaced with confusion when I see Lily's naked body entangled in mine. Last night's memories flood back into my mind. We had sex. But Annie- I stop thinking. I might not even see Annie again. I feel like I've betrayed her in some way, but I'm being irrational. I don't regret losing my virginity to Lily. We're probably both gonna die in the hands of the tributes from District 2. I can't form alliances. I'm gonna have to survive out there all alone, without an ally. Lily stirs in my arms, and rolls over, tucking her brown wavy hair behind her ears. "Morning." She smiles at me, pulling the blanket up to her waist. I try not to look at her body. She looks like we're about to say something, but Grant busts in.

"You guys gotta get up- really? I knew you two would fuck before you went in. Nice, man." Grant high-fives me, taking in our state of undress. "Well you two get dressed into your arena uniform, and grab some breakfast. There isn't a lot of easily accessible food in the arena, obviously. It's called the hunger games, not the full games." Lily rolls her eyes at the bad joke. We get dressed into the uniform for the arena: a light-weight pair of black pants and matching shirt. We get sneakers and a light jacket. Lily ties her hair up in a pony tail. Grant brings us down- Mags' back is getting worse and she really can't walk stairs. She embraces me, kisses my forehead, and musses up my hair. Grant pulls me aside. "Look, don't be nervous. I believe in you, you have a pretty good chance of winning the whole thing. Just remember what's you're fighting for." He pats my back, and waves goodbye. "I'll see you soon. We're watching out for you."

I get on a hovercraft, and sit next to Lily. A Capitol attendant puts a tracker in my arm. I turn to talk to Lily. She's giggling with her Career friends, but every few seconds, she sneaks a glance at me. I pretend not to notice for her sake. I hug Lily goodbye as we get off the hovercraft. "I'm betting on you." She kisses me quickly, and I can't help but blush. Two Peacekeepers escort me to a room where Celia is waiting for me. She smiles at me, and gives me a small hug.

"You'll do great, I believe in you. Go out there and kill it, literally." I straighten up my jacket, and the clear tube I'm in begins to ascend up to the arena. I look around. It's humid out, and fairly warm, but not hot. The sun makes me squint. Our pedestals are in a circle, and a screen displays a countdown. Right now, Annie is in Algebra class. Right now, Grant is sitting in a chair, sipping a drink with Haymitch. Right now, Adrienne and Dad are sitting in the living room, in front of the television, anxious as ever. Right now, I'm about to fight to the death. And I know that I want to win, that's half the battle. No, I _need _to win. I can do this.

_Five, four, three, two, one._

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like it? Make sure to review! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I would've updated sooner, but I've had terrible internet connection... Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

The gong goes off and I sprint towards the Cornucopia. I grab the first pack I see, and make a run for the rainforest-looking area. A spear whizzes by my right ear, just missing me. I wonder who threw it, but I don't have time to look back and see. I trip over a body- I'm not sure who, I think it's the girl from 3- but I keep running. I run as far away as I can. Eventually my legs give out and I lean over, panting for breath. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and sit down on a tree stump, examining my pack's contents. I see what I have - a bag of dried fruit and meat, three small rolls of bread, a small canteen that - of course - has no water, a thin silver sheet (I have no idea what it's for) and a small knife. The knife could definitely come in handy. I don't eat any of the food. I'm not sure how long I'll need it to last. I put the knife in my pocket where I can reach it if needed, and keep on hiking.

A little before sunset, I make camp. I take about twenty strands of the mossy vines that there seem to be an overabundance of, and I weave it into a thick net. Right now, I'm using it as a makeshift sleeping bag of sorts, but it also could be used to trap enemies, I suppose. My stomach rumbles loudly, so I eat a few pieces of the dried fruit, and drink a few sips of water. As soon as the sun sets, the Panem anthem plays and the faces of the deceased are projected onto the night sky. Only 4 people died today, which is unusually low for the first day of a Games. Usually, the bloodbath alone kills around seven or eight. I don't recognize any of the fallen – the girl from 3, the boy from 6, and both tributes from 11. I thought the girl from 3 and the boy from 6 had looked like possible threats. That was probably why both of them were killed on the first day. I hide myself in some shrubs which is probably an unnecessary extra precaution, since I'm wrapped in this vine net. I manage to get a few hours of sleep.

When I wake up, its daylight. I assume it's seven or eight. I yawn quietly, and rub my eyes. I'm about to sit up, when I hear giggling. I look around and find it's source. The career pack is making it's way towards my location. But they don't see me. It's made up of the usual – all the tributes from 1 and 2, and Lily. From their giddy expressions, I assume they've recently killed someone. I carefully look to my left, and see their target. Not that far away (50 feet at the most), is a tribute sleeping smack in the middle of the way, where anyone can see her. If they didn't see her, they would hear her loud snores. The girl's from District 12, which explains a lot. They never do that well. The boy from 2 makes quick work of her- stabbing her heart before she has time to scream. The canon goes off a moment after. I close my eyes. I just watched someone die. I'm not sure why, but I feel the need to make sure any careers aren't going to win. But there's only one way that'll actually happen. _I need to win._ I'm not quite sure how. I'm gonna need to get my hands dirty. I could kill people, I guess. I've learned how. Surely, I could do it. I am in the Hunger Games.

As soon as the Career pack is far enough away, I stand up, put my backpack on my shoulders, and decide to confront other tributes. _C'mon Odair, let's go kill some people. _The thoughts I've been thinking these past few days seem foreign in my head, as if they aren't my own. I keep my hand clenched tightly around my knife, so I can pull it out to use at a second's notice. A few minutes later, I stumble upon my first kill. He's the boy from 9, I recognize him from training. His orange hair, freckles, and awkward looking appearance make him pretty memorable. He doesn't have anything on him, just the clothes on his back. I don't know how I'm going to kill him. _I'm going to kill him. _I shake all of my thoughts out of my head. Now isn't the right time to be moral. He looks up at me, terror in his eyes. I smile at him, trying to look friendly. He's dumb enough to stand up and come close to me. The boy looks like he's about to say something but I don't let him, by stabbing him in the stomach. His eyes open widely, and he opens his mouth. I pull out the knife, and wipe the blood off on some tree bark. He collapses, and the canon goes off a few seconds later. My knees feel weak, and I force myself to drink some water so I don't collapse. That wasn't that bad. I wasn't sure how I should feel after killing someone, but I don't feel anything. As if this didn't affect me at all. That scares me a little. I could easily do that again. I hope Annie didn't see that.

Later on, I see the girl from 5. She's alone but unlike last time, she has a weapon to defend herself with. I need to think of a plan. What if I trap her? I _do_ have a net. I can catch and kill fish, what if I treat people the same way? If only I had a trident, like back at home. I set up a trap of sorts, so when she walks by, she'll be swept up into the net. I hide behind a tree, and wait.

Surprisingly, it works. She gets her foot tangled in the vine, and is stuck hanging from her ankle. I kill her the same way I killed the boy, and trade my knife for her spear. I'm more comfortable with that. At the end of the day, there are only four deaths – the girl from 7, the girl from 12, and the two people I killed: the boy from 9 and the girl from 5.

I wake up by a parachute being delivered to me. It's a gigantic package, and I hope it goes unnoticed by the others, if there is anyone else in my area. I open it up and there's a small note. **You're doing great. Put it to good use. -M and G. **Mags and Grant are watching me. I look at the contents, and try not to gasp. I've been given a silver trident. My father didn't even have something this nice back at home. That must have cost them a fortune. Mags and Grant must really believe that we can bring me home. But if I go home, Lily'll have to die. I don't want Lily to die, but I really hope I don't have to kill her. I don't think I'd be able to do that. She was the first girl I ever kissed, the first girl I ever had sex with. While I do care a lot about Annie, we'd never be in this situation together. And right now, Lily and I are. I like her, she's really something. But I don't love her or anything, I've known her for like a week and a half. I've known Annie for my whole life. I stand up, knowing what I'm gonna do. I'll stay away from the career pack until I have to. I eat some crackers and fruit, drink some water, and walk towards the stream I saw on the first day. We're only two days in and I only have half of my water left. I need to get more. I'm sure I could live without food if needed, but I need water every day. I leave the spear in a hollow log, and put the knife in my pocket. I'm holding onto it for food, but my trident is my weapon now.

I walk around for a while without running into anyone. The arena's pretty big. I hear a canon go off, but I'm not sure who died. It's too far away to see the body as the hovercraft picks them up. I guess I'll find out tonight. I stumble upon a small alliance: both tributes from 10 and the boy from 8 are cooking some type of animal over a fire. The smoke is probably visible for miles. I shake my head. I don't know a lot about survival skills, but that seems pretty stupid. I lean on a tree, waiting to see if they'll notice me. They're too oblivious, so I get their attention, but taking the girl from 10, and skillfully impaling her with the trident. It's like an extension of my arm, and I use it so naturally she doesn't even have time to scream. Her blood gets on my shoes. The boy from her district screams. "What the hell, man?" He picks up a sharp branch to use as a weapon to defend himself.

"That won't work." I laugh. "It can be snapped in a second, just like that." I snap to prove my point. He steps back, and I step forward, poised to attack. I'm about to stab him when the boy from 8 tries to throw a knife at me, but he misses me, and cuts my ear. I ignore the slow trickle of blood down the right side of my face, and finish off the boy from 10, by stabbing him and twisting it. The canon goes off before I pull the trident out of his midsection. The boy from 8 has a similar fate. He runs towards me, wielding the knife he previously tried to attack me with. I throw the vine-net around him, and stab him multiple times. I don't walk away until he collapses on the ground. I sit down after the canon goes off and a hovercraft dips down to collect the three bodies. I feel... different. As if this has changed me somehow. But I don't feel bad, and _that _scares me. Maybe I'm turning evil. I shake my head. I'm from a career district. This is normal. Mags and Grant aren't evil, and they killed people. I drink some more water, and refill my canteen.

I don't do much for the rest of the night. I sit by the stream, relax and bathe myself, wiping off blood and sweat from my body. My ear is fine: there's just a little nip at the top. It's not even bleeding, so I just leave it alone. I throw my shirt in my pack- it's too humid for all of the clothes they gave us, and I don't mind being shirtless. I'm somewhat muscular, and I do have what Lily calls a "six pack". I've never really cared about that. I set up camp, and watch the sunset, munching on some dried fruit. When the sun sets, the anthem plays, and we see everyone who died today. The boy from 5 was the one who I heard die, since the other 3 fallen tributes were killed by me. I look at the small photos of the boy from 8 and both tributes from 10. I think of their families, and friends back home. They probably hate me. _Not right now, Finnick, _I tell myself. _Let's just try to stay alive. _There's 12 people left, which means there's 12 people dead. 11 to go.

I get a lot of sleep, and when I wake up, I can tell it's almost noon. I hear footsteps, and jump to my feet. All my belongings are packed up and ready to go; it only takes me a second to get my pack on, and grab my net and trident. I see the source of the footsteps maybe 10 s away from me: the girl from 9, gawking at me. She crosses her arms and smiles at me. "You know, you're pretty cute for a District 4 boy." I look at her with confusion, and slight disgust. _She's flirting with me during a fight to the death?_ No way. That has to be some type of strategy. I grip the handle of my trident tighter, remembering the trap I set up last night, so anything around me will fall into a hidden net. Maybe she'll fall into my trap. That would be ideal. "Don't bother, we both know you wouldn't kill a girl."

I shrug, "No, I would. But I'll let you make the first move, ladies first. Sounds good?" I ask her, smirking. I sound a bit like Grant, and I don't really mind. She falls for it, and steps forward to release an arrow, but get's caught in my net. The girl still releases the arrow, but it hits a tree, doing no harm whatsoever. I smirk at her evilly. "See, I can kill you right now." And I do. I don't feel bad after, and that worries me a little. Usually, people feel bad after killing people. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a fight to the death.

After her canon goes off, a girl runs over, spear in hand. She looks like she's been crying, but still lethal. She holds a large sword, and seems to know how to use it. I look at her and realize why she's so distinct-looking. She's the thirteen-year-old from District 1. Even though she's younger than me, I'm sure she can kill. "So you can kill." She ponders, running her thumb over the blade of her sword.

"I don't know if you've realized this, but we're in the Hunger Games. Are you going to try and kill me, or just stare at me?" I ask, being unnecessarily jerky to her. She tucks a single strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, it's too short to fit up in her high ponytail. I can tell she's trying to be intimidating. Most careers aren't that scary until they're 17 or 18. And she most definitely isn't. I smirk a little, and she takes that as an invitation to start a fight. I step forward, and she steps back. She swings her arm, trying to hit me with the sword. I duck easily. Her technique is sloppy, and from the way her hands shake, it's obvious she hasn't eaten in a while. I wonder if she's broken off the career pack, or they kicked her out. From a career standpoint, she can't be that useful. Or maybe the alliance disbanded. I reach over and get a jab at her, but I miss, and only cause three small cuts on her chest. Those won't cause any damage. She stubbornly swings her sword the same way, and I know what to expect, so I use the body of my trident to hit the side of her sword, knocking it out of her hand. She looks up and me, and swallows hard. She looks like she's about to tell me something, but a canon blast startles both of us. I snap back in a second, and slide her sword towards me using my foot, so she can't retrieve it even if she is dumb enough to try.

"You're pretty bad, for a Career." I tell her menacingly, and then stab her, pulling out and jolting away from the pool of blood flowing from her body. The canon goes off, and I laugh.

I walk around, contemplating what to do. I want to take out the career pack, if they're still together. If I don't kill them, and focus on the other people who are left, it'll become painfully obvious that I'm a threat. Killing a District 1 girl probably made it obvious that one of the tributes is behind most of the deaths. So far, there have been 15 deaths, and I've been responsible for 7 of them. That's more than half.

I lie low for the rest of the day, and try not to bring any attention to myself. It's actually pretty easy. I get a few feet up in a tree, and watch people hike by me, uninterested and oblivious to their surroundings. It's a wonder they've made it this far. Usually the spacey ones are the first to go, since they have such a slow reaction time, and lack good fighting skills. Only three people died today, and I killed two of them: the girl from 1 and the girl from 9 The third death wasn the girl Emily from District 8. She was pretty nice. I'm pretty glad I wasn't the one to kill her. Or maybe she died from natural causes. Regardless, I hope it wasn't painful for her. I drink a little water, and don't have the appetite to eat any of my food supply, so I just fall asleep in the tree, tying myself in with the netting.

I wake up to a scream that sounds all too familiar. I'm thankful for the decision to tie myself into the tree, or I would be on the ground right now. I lower myself down, and find the cause of the scream. It's Lily. The boy from 2 is stabbing her repeatedly, the jabs superficial so they draw out a slow and painful death. The girl from 2 cackles behind him. The boy from 1 is nowhere to be seen, but nobody died overnight. The alliance must've broken up. They leave her to die, and I'm unable to intersect. As soon as they're out of sight, I run into the clearing to help her. She isn't bleeding a lot, but there must be a lot of internal damage. She's pale, and looks terrified. "Finn." She smiles weakly when she sees me. I walk over to where she's leaning on a log, and give her a hug. I want to ask her if she's alright, but I don't. She's dying. Lily takes my hand and smiles at me. "Don't be sad. I knew I wasn't gonna win. I don't kill. You can, you're stronger than me. Promise me you'll try to win?"

I nod. "Promise." She kisses my cheek.

"Stay with me?" Lily asks, squeezing my hand.

"Of course." I smile at her supportively. She closes her eyes, and lays on the forest floor. I don't move after her canon goes off, but I have to when the hovercraft comes down to pick her up. "Goodbye Lily." I whisper as I walk away. I curse under my breath, and promise myself I'll kill the boy from 2. I stop and eat the last of my dried meat, which isn't a lot, but makes an alright breakfast. I'm pretty hungry from not eating anything last night. I pace around, and make my way out of the forrest. I'm so angry, over everything. I'm angry at the people who killed Lily and Emily, and I'm angry at Grant and Mags for giving me a weapon, and I'm angry at the Capitol for televising a fight to the death. I'm just _angry_ in general. I stop short in my tracks, and take a deep breath. I look up and see smoke from a fire not too far away from me. I go to see who's by the source of the fire, and find the boy from District 12. He's roasting a small animal over a fire, and looks very starved, even by District 12 standards. They have it the worst out of all the districts. If he's made it this far, he must have a weapon. I straighten out my vine net, and throw it over him from behind him. He doesn't have time to do anything since he's trapped, so I just stab him quickly, getting it over with. Killing is almost mundane, just another chore that needs to be done. Like making my bed or cleaning the dishes back at home.

I feel the need to kill, to just get it over with. I'm a few people away from going home. I just need to hold it together until I get to that point. I find the girl from District 6 half a kilo away from the Cornucopia, dying of some animal bite. I finish her off out of pity, not bloodlust. We're down to the final 8, well 7 now. They're interviewing my family and friends now. I keep looking, I want to be _done_, damn it.

The boy from District 7 is not too far away. He's bathing in the stream, and dumbly assumes he's alone. I dig the knife out of my bag, and throw it at his submerged body, hitting his heart perfectly. The stream water turns red, and I know he's just another fallen tribute now. The sun finally sets, and I see my work. Lily, the girl from 6, the boy from 7, and the boy from 12 are all dead. I've killed ten people. That has to be some type of record. I wouldn't want to know. There's 5 of us left. My chances of going home are at 20%. I hear a canon go off, and the face of the boy from District 3 is projected in the sky. I wonder what happened. Scratch that, now my chances are at 25%. _May the odds be ever in my favor. _Ugh. I just want to go home.

I get almost no sleep, because I'm so restless. I wonder how the other districts feel – the final four tributes are all careers. The games'll be over very soon. I can feel the anticipation buzz through me from my head to my fingertips and toes. I get to go home. I grin widely. And that's when I realize something: all of these deaths are okay, as long as I get to go home. If none of them die, I will. Hopefully, my family won't mind.

The next two days go by slowly. There are no canons, meaning no deaths, and I don't even see anyone. I finish off most of my food: I have a few sips of water and three or four crackers left. The Capitol must be thirsting for blood by now. On the sunrise of the third day, the game makers make an announcement: _Ladies and Gentlemen, at noon today there will be a feast in the 're feeling __**very **__generous, and plan to offer every one of you something that you desperately need. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be __**ever **__in your favor._

A feast, hm? That's a classic Game maker trick to get the remaining tributes to finish each other fof, and is used to get a winner by the end of the day. It also provides something each of the tributes need. There's nothing_ I _need, and I'm pretty sure the other tributes are fine. Then again, if someone was injured, than I wouldn't know because they didn't die. Regardless, I decide to go.

I hide out behind the Cornucopia, waiting for the first person to get their pack. I showed up before any of the other tributes, so I set up a net trap by the large orange bag with a 2 on it. However, I was smart enough to leave my pack, so it looked like I was never here. The girl from 2 shows up a few minutes later, wielding a spear. I smirk, that'll do her no good. She looks around, making sure nobody is there, and steps up to grab the backpack. She gets entangled in the net, and begins to scream for her district partner. Her efforts are in vain, and he never comes. "You know, your boyfriend isn't coming." I walk up to her, trident in hand. I'm about to stab her, when we're both taken off guard by a shriek from behind me.

"Wait! Wait!" The boy from 1 runs up, waving his hands. He slows down, and breathes when he gets close. I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to explain _why _he wants me to spare the girl from 2's life. He looks at me. "Hey, man. Can you let me kill her? Please? She killed my district mate."

I shrug, not really caring. "Go ahead." He uses his sword to stab her repeatedly, and I just watch, arms folded. When he turns to thank me, he walks right into my trident. Both of their canons go off at the same time. I take my pack and walk away. "And then there were two." I mumbled. This is pretty anti-climatic, for a finale. That's not good. They- the Capitol- wants a good show. I guess I need to perform.

I look inside my pack, to see what my "desperately needed item" is. Its some type of white soup. I drink it, and instantly feel reenergized. I feel invincible. I decide to look for the boy from 2, my final opponent. He's going to be good. My teachers have told me I'm a good fighter, but District 2 tributes are always the best. They win the most out of any District, and get the most training. Everyone knows it, but they're not supposed to be trained. Then again, neither was I. _I can do this. _I've killed 11 people, I can do one more. I eat the last of my crackers, and leave behind my spear, shirt and jacket, bringing only my water canteen and trident. I'm going home.

I find him maybe half a mile away from me, sitting at a fire. He's been waiting for me. I pause, frozen with terror. This is the first time during the games where I actually think I might die. It's never really seemed like a possibility before now. "I know you're there, Finnick Odair." he laughs. "That rhymed." I gather my last ounce of courage to burst through the clearing. "You know, I'd really like to thank you. Seriously, you've made my life so easy. All I've had to do is kill a meager four people. You've killed how many? 10 people? And I bet you think that your body count makes it a given that you're going back to your girlfriend. Well you're wrong. I'm going to kill you."

I laugh at the absurdity of this. "I've killed eleven, actually. Well obviously. I'm obviously gonna kill you. This- all of this," I use my hands to signal I mean everything around us, the whole Games. "all of it's a fight to the death. And I think you're just a little bitter that I killed your girlfriend, aren't you?" He doesn't need to know I let the boy from 1 avenge his district-mate. He just frowns at me, acting very childlike.

"She's not my girlfriend!" he says stubbornly. I'm almost expecting him to throw a tantrum. He's what? Seventeen years old, and getting all irritated over nothing. _Screw this._I lurch forward to get him. He doesn't have a weapon, so I'm at an advantage. But he knocks it out of my hand, sending it out of my reach. We both only have our bare hands.

He climbs on top of me, and tries to choke me, I manage to push him off, and do the same. When he starts sputtering, I make the mistake of loosening my grip, and he uses the opportunity to throw me into a tree. I notice red trickle down a large gash on my arm. I don't hesitate, and kick him between his legs. It's unexpected, and almost pathetic, but it works. He falls to his knees, and I manage to get my hands around his neck. "Any last words?" I ask cruelly. He's being strangled, so he obviously can't answer. "No? Alright." I grin at him, and just like we practiced in training, I snap his neck. The canon goes off right after. _Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 65__th__ Hunger Games, Finnick Odair. _I grab my trident off the ground and let the hovercraft pick me up.

I did it, I won.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like it?

Reviews = love.


	5. Chapter 5

I get on the hovercraft, and Grant and Mags are waiting for me. Mags hugs me tightly and wraps me in a woolen blanket. Grant pats me on the back. Something in his eyes worries me. It's like my winning is bittersweet for him in some way. He says nothing that would explain his emotions, but smiles and says "We're really proud of you. You did great." I know I won, but he doesn't say what I lost. I lost Lily, my virginity (which isn't necessarily a bad thing), and the worst- I lost my integrity. I'm 14 years old and have killed 12 people. In the arena, that didn't seem like a big deal. But outside of that, I feel terrible. I've broken the record of most people killed in the Hunger Games. I don't think that's something to be proud of. I'm scared of what I'm capable of.

As soon as we get back to the Capitol, I'm whisked away by my prep team, who clean me off, and make me look presentable for my second interview with Caesar. Haymitch stops by to congratulate me on my win, saying he knew I would all along. Grant, who has gotten dressed up as well, asks him "Do you'll think he have to?"

Haymitch scoffs, and shrugs. "They're practically lining up as we speak." He becomes solemn, and says "Honestly, I think it's an obvious yes." He then pats me on the back, and before walking away, warns me: "Kid, you've got some shit coming to you." I look to Grant for an explanation, but he just casts his gaze at the floor, looking very defeated. Ariel brings me down to my interview, cheery as ever.

Caesar introduces me, and before we begin, they show clips of the interviews back home they did for the final eight. My father and Adrienne are painfully optimistic, and Juliette (with little Dahlia on her hip) talks about how proud she is of me, and how she's sure I'll win. It takes a lot of self control to not roll my eyes at her. Then, they interview my good friend Sebastian, and Annie. She looks pretty as always, but I can tell they've touched up the video clip a little. They play up the romance angle a little, which bothers me, but Annie still sounds like herself. I miss her.

Caesar asks me a little about my time in the Games. First, he asks about how I felt when my district-mate was dying in my arms. I explain how Lily was a good friend, and how she was so nice to me, but that there only can be one winner. Caesar asks about why I didn't form any alliances, and I say that they would only last a few days, because one would end up having to kill the other. Caesar asks about how it feels to have killed half of the tributes. I respond my simply stating that I did what I had to, in order to guarantee my going home. I stick with my flirty personality that I used during my first interview whenever it's appropriate. I think it goes pretty well.

Ariel, Mags and I eat dinner without Grant. Mags says that he had some type of date, but she doesn't elaborate on it. I'm not sure why any district person would actually spend time with a Capitol person, but then again my dad married one of them. I can't sleep. Every time I manage to get a few minutes of rest, I'm awakened by terrifying nightmares. hear Grant come in later that night, but I don't bother him. He's heading back to District 4 with us in the morning.

In the morning, Grant is exhausted and he can barely keep his head out of his coffee. Mags keeps looking over at him sympathetically, and then giving me a similar look. Ariel seems oblivious to all of this, and her buoyant attitude seems just annoying. "Are you okay?" I ask Grant. Mags coughs loudly.

"Uh... yeah, I'm fine. It's... really nothing. Just a victor thing. You'll understand it soon enough." He responds, sounding on edge for no apparent reason. I shrug it off- I tend to over think things. After breakfast, I turn on the shower, and sit under the warm rain, just thinking. I stare at my hands, that used to be calloused from spending so much time weaving intricate nets and all the small scars from just being clumsy have been removed by the Capitol surgeons and it's been replaced with new, shiny skin. I feel fake, like the things that make me _me _aren't there. Who am I, now? Finnick Odair, District 4, Victor of the 65th Annual Hunger Games. I guess that's who I am, but it doesn't really seem through. I'm not that special. I pour shampoo on my head, clean myself, and dry off. I put on clothes, and begin to pack up the few things I brought with me.

All three of us take a car to the hovercraft pad, and head back home. I'm excited to be going home, but a bit uneasy. I feel like a different person than who I was less than a month ago when I left. Grant, who seems to have been reading my mind, sits down next to me on the bench I'm occupying. "Hey, Finnick." He grins at me. He seems more like his usual self. "So, I guess you wanna know what happens next. Well, you don't have to go to school anymore, so you get to work on a talent, or do nothing. Your family is gonna move into your new house in the Victor's Village. You're gonna live next to Natalie. She won the 58th Games, and she's 23. She's pretty cool."

"Do people treat you differently?" I ask. I want things to go back to normal.

He shrugs. "Sort of... I mean now you're a celebrity. Honestly, my family was kind of scared of me for a few days. Seeing the kid you raised slaughter a bunch of people is kind of hard on the parents. Things might be kind of stressful for you for next few years."

"How so?" I ask.

"_Might be._ I don't want to worry you with things that aren't definite. But uh... sometimes some victors have to spend more time in the Capitol than others." Grant hesitates. He averts his gaze from mine, and casts it towards the ground. He isn't being specific and I don't want to seem bothersome, so I just drop it. Whatever it is that's worrying him, it must be a pretty big burden. "I promise I'll tell you, if you even need to deal with it."

I put on a nice shirt and pair of pants, and comb my hair in the small bathroom. When I'm done, the hovercraft has landed, and we're back home in District 4. I step out, and the whole district is cheering. I grin happily and wave. It's so good to be home. To the right of the platform is a huddle of people – my dad, Juliette with Dahlia, Adrienne, Sebastian, and Annie. I hug all of them, even Juliette and hug Annie the hardest. She's crying a little, but neither of us care. I'm just so glad to see her. "I missed you so much." I whisper in her ear. She smiles and strokes my cheek. I hear Grant whistle, and roll my eyes. I had temporarily forgotten that I was in public.

I'm shown to my new home in the Victor's Village. I live there full-time, but we also still own our old house. Technically, the house is mine. If I were to die, my family would have to move back to our old home. I'm one of the better off in the district, not that anyone is that badly off. So I'm only a five minute walk away from my old home, and Annie. My mini-mansion is gigantic. All twelve of the homes in the small community look the same, with identical front yards, mailboxes, and views of the ocean. The Pacific, they call it. I'm not sure when it was named that, or what it means. But it sounds very Pre-Panem. My new home has three floors: the ground floor, a middle floor, and a smaller upper floor. The ground floor has a big kitchen with a table, a living room, as well as a large dining room, which I assume is for when there's guests over. In the back, there's large floor-to-ceiling windows that are really doors to go out in the backyard. The second floor has 5 bedrooms, a study and a "guest room" thats a lot smaller than the other bedrooms. The top floor is the coolest. It's meant for storage, so it's just a lot of open space, but there's a lot of room to make it whatever you want it to be. The sad part is, the house is too big and kind of lonely, since there's only five of us living in it.

We're all moved in by lunch time. Annie stops by. I answer the door, and at first she's taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the house, if I can even call it that. She squeals "Finn!" and runs into my arms. She's saying hello for real. I hug her so tightly I worry I might crush her. She doesn't seem to mind. I take her on a tour of the new house, and then we sit in my room, catching up. "Can I ask you something, Finn? In your interview, you said that you liked me. Did you just say that, or did you mean it?" She asks, her expression unreadable. I don't know what she wants me to say, so I decide the truth can't really hurt. Worse comes to worse, she'll just reject me. But we'll still be friends.

"Honestly? Well Annie, I like you. A lot. No, I really like you. And it's okay if you don't like me. Really, it won't change anything." I stumble on my words. I can imagine Lily mocking me. _Finnick Odair, scared to talk to a girl he's known forever._ I remember that she isn't mocking me, because she's dead.

Annie just smiles at me. I never know what she's thinking. But her smile is amazing. She pauses for a moment, and then looks up at me from behind her long, dark eyelashes. "Well that's good to know," is all she says, but leans in and kisses my cheek. She pulls away and says nothing, but just giggles a little. Annie lays her head on my shoulder.

"You have no idea how much I missed you, Annie Cresta." I tell her, absentmindedly twirling a finger through her dark wavy hair. I was worried that Annie wouldn't even look at me now that I've killed 12 people, but that isn't the case. Nothing's changed at all, but it took me being reaped in the Hunger Games to realize that I cared about her. Regardless, I know now, and that's what really matters. Annie and I catch up on everything I've missed out in school, with our friends and with the District. There wasn't a lot, but the whole district was rooting for me, and apparently practically everyone chipped in to pay for my trident. It's in my new room, I brought it home with me. Something that expensive really shouldn't be left in an arena to never be used again. Especially since getting that parachute saved my life.

There are 12 houses in every Victor's Village. 7 are in use. I know Mags and Grant, but the others are used by 4 other victors. They come to introduce themselves. The oldest (besides Mags) is an older man named Jake. He grumbles a lot, and I can't really understand anything he says. He won the 22nd Hunger Games. A male and female victor who appear to be in their mid thirties come by next. Daniella won the 43rd. She's very anxious, and I get the feeling that she was mentally scarred by her Games. Daniella refuses to sit still, as if she's expecting someone to come out from behind her wielding a knife. Michael won the 46th Hunger Games. He seems really nice, but I get the feeling he doesn't like me that much. I remember seeing recaps of his Games, even though I wasn't alive for them. He was a Career, and was a lot better than anyone I've seen in a while. The last is Natalie, the girl Grant told me about. She's pretty young, and seems to be very energetic. She doesn't look like other people in District 4, with her brown eyes and dark black hair. I wonder if one of her parents is from another district, but I don't ask her. She seems pretty cool, but we don't have a lot to talk about.

Adrienne makes fish for dinner, and my whole family eats together, but in virtual silence. Juliette keeps shooting me dirty looks from behind her purple eyelashes, and my dad keeps smiling at me. Adrienne tries to make conversation, but it really fails. Things seem awkward. Adrienne and I chat as we do the dishes. "I really missed you." She hugs me tightly, and then goes back to washing the plates. "We're all really proud of you." I smile warmly at her, and she splashes me with a handful of water.

I laugh. "You did _not_ just splash me, Adrienne Odair." We used to have splash fights just for fun when we were younger. We grew up around water, it's like air to us. It's been a while.

"I think I did." She mocks my tone jokingly. _This is war. _I take the sponge and clean a cup, handing it to her to put in the dish-washing machine. When Adri reaches out to grab it, I pour the soapy water in the cup and pour it on her head. She squeals. I missed these moments, when we could just play around. She smiles at me, wiping the water off her face with a towel, and tying her hair up into a ponytail. "All done." She whispers, walking away from the sink.

I make myself at home in the master bedroom. Since this _is _my house, and not my dad's, I get the biggest room. Juliette threw a fit when she found out. To be honest, I really don't care. If _she _wants to kill 12 people, she can have her damned master bedroom. If she wants she can move back to the old house, or even better, the Capitol. There's no love lost between us. I'm not bitter at the fact that she married my dad – I really don't care about that. My mom's been dead a long time, and he has every right to move on. What bothers me is that she is so _Capitol. _Everything about her just screams high-class and pretentiousness. On top of all of that, shes from that abhorrent place that makes us fight to the death over crimes supposedly committed over half a century ago. I wonder if Mags remembers the Dark Days. She was 5 years old. I want to ask her about it. I remind myself to bring it up sometime, now that I can see her frequently. We're practically neighbors now.

I love my room here. It's been decorated beforehand, and is three times the size of my old room. There's cream-colored walls, wooden floors (imported all the way from District 7), and large windows with curtains that are the color of the sea. There's a large white bed with a comforter that's the same shade of blue as the curtains. There's room for 3 people to sleep comfortably in. There's a closet that's so big that I literally lay down in it. I'm pretty tall too. There's also a bathroom that's only for me (you have to go through my room to get to it) with all these cool lotions and buttons from the Capitol. It's all so unnecessary, but so nice.

I lie in bed for a few hours, but can't fall asleep. I'm not sure if it's because I have too much on my mind or because I'm terrified of the nightmares I'll face when I fall asleep. Everyone in the house is passed out, and all the lights are off. I tiptoe downstairs and outside. I don't even know where I'm walking to until I get to the section of the beach by my old house. I sit on the sand, letting the waves crash up against my feet. What if I got dragged out with the tide? I look down at what I'm wearing – only my boxers. _Whoops._ I walked out of the house and through District 4 in my underwear. Nice job, Finnick. I don't even have shoes. I take a breath, and dive into the sea, surrounded by water and the starry sky. I sit underwater for as long as I can, before I have to come up for air. I'm calmer in water, it's where I feel the most like my true self. I dive down as far as I can. It's dark out, and I can't see where I am. I just keep swimming, as far as I can. After a few minutes, I look back at land. I'm pretty far out, and the tide's rough. It's the middle of the night, and I'm alone in the ocean. I'm just not making wise decisions today. I think I've had enough life-or-death experiences in my 14 years, I really don't need any more. I swim back, and when I get four or five feet away from the beach, I let the tide bring me in.

I dry myself off on a towel someone must have left by accident, since I'm covered in salty water and sand. Not that it bothers me at all. I speed-walk to my new home. I've cleared my head a little, and now maybe I'll be able to sleep easier. Maybe. As I reenter the Victor's Village, I see Natalie. She's sitting on a plastic chair in front of her house. She just smiles a little and shakes her head when she sees me. "Not only are you out after midnight, but you went for a swim in your underwear." She points out, and pats on the chair next to her. I sit down in it. "You're pretty crazy. Couldn't sleep?"

"No way. I get nightmares." I admit. I don't know why, but she seems trustworthy. Natalie takes a breath from a small burning stick in her mouth, and exhales smoke. I don't know what she's doing.

Natalie purses her lips, and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "This thing? It's a cigarette. You smoke 'em. Don't do it. Nightmares? Those suck. Almost every victor gets them. Not gonna lie, they really don't go away. Old Mags still gets them sometimes." She exhales loudly, and squeezes my wet thigh sympathetically. "Your nightmares are gonna be pretty bad. You didn't really get badly _hurt_, but you had someone die in your arms, and you killed _twelve _people. That's a lot, even for someone from around here. Oh boy, you don't know how bad it's gonna get. I'm sorry kid. Did Grant tell you what's in store for ya?"

I shake my head, no. "He almost mentioned something. I don't know. The only thing Grant said was that I would get girls or something like that."

Natalie ponders something for a second, before shrugging, and muttering something. She exhales again, and leans her head back at the sky. "Well that wasn't wrong. Victors are always adored. They just are. But some of them are adored more than others. You, for example-" She cuts herself off, and looks at me in disbelief. "Holy shit. You don't know how attractive you are. I don't even _like _you or anything like that. I'm years older than you. But oh my God! Really?"

I'm confused. "What are you getting at? And I really don't know what you mean." Natalie rolls her eyes, and takes another breath from her _cigarette, _flicking a little of the ash onto the grass and stomping it with her foot.

She sighs. "Finnick. You're hot. And I'm not just saying that. Every girl at that school," she points to my old school, "thinks your attractive. And you are. The Capitol agrees. Use it to your advantage. But also, it might hurt you." Natalie shakes her head. "Look, I don't wanna break it to you. You're gonna get a visit in a couple days, and _everything_ will make sense. Go home, and get some rest."

"Night, Natalie." I tell her, and carefully let myself in the house, making care to not wake anyone up. I put on a new, dry pair of underwear, and hang the others in my bathroom before tucking myself into bed, and trying to fall asleep. I'm plagued by nightmares. Tonight it's about Annie. It starts off _very_ nice: we're laying in bed, and we have sex. I realize she's taken Lily's place in the memory. And then fast forward to the arena. I see the tributes from 2 slaughtering her, and she dies in my arms. _Annie died. _I wake up with my heart racing and a cold sweat. The sun's coming in through the blinds. It must be seven or eight in the morning. I'm still tired, but I don't even want to try to go back to sleep. I hear the clanking of pots and the shuffling of feet. My dad and Adri have work and school, respectively. Juliette is getting her beauty sleep. I'm not sure what Dahlia does – she's still a little kid, I think she's in the lower grade school. I don't really know. What will _I_ do all day? I don't have to go to school ever again, and I'm so rich from winning my games I don't need a job. I guess I need to find something to fill my days.

I slip on a pair of sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt, and step outside. There's dew on the grass, and some people are shuffling around the Victor's Village. There's a booklet Ariel sent, that I need to fill out. It has a list of Capitol tabloids and newspapers that I can get delivered to my house for free. There's a name and a description for each of them. I check off the ones I've seen Juliette read, the newspapers that talk about current events and other things that go on in some of the other districts, and a few magazines. I get the ones that focus on celebrities and other famous people, fitness magazines and other leisure activities, and one more that really grabs my attention: _Victor's Weekly. _Apparently, its a whole fifty-page magazine where they talk about some of the victors and their lives. Maybe the mention me. As conceited as it sounds, I want to know what they say about me. I put that in my mailbox, put a few gold coins in my pocket and decide to go into town.

It's a short walk, and since most people are in work or school by now, it's lonely too. I don't see anyone, except for a young woman holding a baby. She looks up at me, and then speed-walks away when we make eye contact. I decide to go the shops. I'm not a huge fan of shopping when I don't _need _anything, but now I have more money than I'll ever need. And I get more money sent to me every month for the rest of my life! I have (what used to be considered) a week's worth of food money in my pocket, and that barely dents into the money I have for the rest of the month. I pick up some groceries, like milk, a few rolls of bread, broth for Adri's stew, and Dahlia's favorite nut butter cookies. I'm on the way home when I hear someone from behind me. They call out "Finnick!"

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, not that many people seem to be interested. Let me know?

Reviews = Love.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I've decided to continue writing. No worries!

* * *

I turn around and see a beautiful pale woman. She's in her late thirties, and has the same bronze hair and tanned skin as everyone in District 4. Annie's mother. I smile warmly at her. It's the first time in a few days I've genuinely been happy to see someone. She smiles back, and I notice the faint crinkles by her chocolate brown eyes. She looks just like Annie, but Annie has her father's sea-green eyes, like mine. She envelopes me in a hug, and I don't let go for a while. Annie's mom and I are close, which is unexpected but not a bad thing at all. She's also really close to Adri, and was a mother to us for the longest time. Adrienne tried her best to be the leading woman of the house, but it's hard when you're growing up here to be in control of anything. "How _are_ you?" She asks. I know what she means.

I sigh and let go of her. "I'm alright, I guess. I'm alive, and that's all that really matters for now. What bothers me is that everyone just congratulates me. It's _sick_." I shake my head. This isn't the time for that. "But I'm fine. I'm here, and we're all okay." _Except Lily. And the twelve people I killed._ _They're dead._ I think. I have to shake my head a little to stop myself from thinking like that. I don't tell her about the nightmares or how I feel like I might just break down. I need to stay strong, even while coming to terms with how much of a monster I am. _I can keep it to myself._ "Do you need any helps with nets? I have a lot of time on my hands." I offer to help Alana Cresta at her net shop. She and Annie taught me how to weave almost anything into knots, into ropes, and into nets.

"I could always use some extra help." Alana agrees cheerily. I drop the groceries I picked up with a peacekeeper who offers to bring them to my home, and we walk the short distance to her shop. Most of time I just liked to watch her long bony fingers move swiftly and skillfully into these intricate nets. She, like Mags and my mother (when she was alive) can weave baskets that are so tight-knit that they can hold water. It's truly amazing. In less than an hour, I've made three nets, and four baskets. It's a lot, but Alana's done even more. She ties her long hair up in a knot, and leans back in her chair, taking a sip of water from a glass. "So, tell me. How was it? We only see so much on television. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." I know she has only the best intentions.

I put down the basket I just finished, and sigh. "Well, it's honestly terrifying. You want to make allies, but you can't make friends, because there's only one winner. And what terrifies me is how easy it was to kill half of the tributes. Well, it was physically easy. Still, I feel terrible. In a few months, I'll have to face their families, and look them in the eyes. _Hey, I just killed your kid and now I'm a celebrity and you're forced to watch me on your television talking about how I killed your kid, and everyone loves me. _They have such different morals in the Capitol. They sleep until noon, and party. The only thing they worry about is fashion and their social status. Only material things."

Alana squeezes my hand supportively, and grins at me. "You should've seen Juliette when she first got here, with her wigs and multi-colored eyelashes and six inch high heels. She had no idea what to do in a District. Imagine her in Ten, Eleven or even District Twelve." She laughs. I think about that all the time. Juliette thinks District Four is bad, and we have it pretty well off. We're almost the Capitol compared to some of the outlying districts. Alana and Juliette are open in their dislike for each other. They're too different, and I think Alana liked my dad. We all thought the two of them would get together after my mom and Annie's father died. But that clearly didn't go as planned. "It'll get better, I can promise you that.

I look at the clock on the straw-decorated wall. It's getting late. "I probably should get back to my new home. You should come by sometime! It was great seeing you, honestly." I hug her goodbye, and she thanks me for helping her with the orders from various customers. I walk home, slowly. It's not even my real home. My real home is next to Annie's house, and it's certainly not in the Victor's Village.

When I get back, Natalie's sitting on her porch, smoking as usual. I personally don't see the appeal. She's chatting with Grant, who nods and says hello to me. I really don't want to talk to them. When I walk in, Adrienne is making dinner and Juliette is chatting my dad's ear off, but I don't say hello to any of them. I just walk straight up to my room, and close the door loudly. I sit on my bed, and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. Everything's changed in a matter of days. I have so much responsibility as a victor, but I don't have to deal with the problems most people in District Four face. For that, I guess I'm lucky. Still, I don't want to deal with the nightmares and the victory tour and mentoring and spending so much time being someone I'm not. What would have happened if I had died in the arena? I don't know. I can't picture it. I really didn't have many near death experiences, except at the very end. It was almost as if the Game-makers wanted me to win. What if they did?

I've heard of it before: it happens and it's known but nobody dares to speak of it. Sometimes, the Game-makers decide to go easy on a few tributes who the Capitol in general find appealing. I suddenly feel cheated – _I've worked so hard, and struggled so much to come home, and apparently I didn't do much of the work myself._ I tell myself to stop jumping to conclusions, I don't know anything for sure. I'd credit my win to myself, Grant and Mags. Together, we were able to get me the weapon I needed to win, and made my existence as of right now possible.

Someone knocks on the door, but I don't answer. A few moments later, Adrienne comes in quietly, and sits next to me. She sits down next to me on my oversized bed and puts her arm around me. An act of attempted comfort. "Thanks for picking that stuff up. I made pasta with chicken for dinner. It's in the fridge if you decide that you're hungry later." She tells me, and then pauses. I know that she didn't come upstairs to tell me that. Adri inhales sharply, and pauses before asking, "Finnick, are you alright? Is there something going on? I know how bad it must be for you, but I mean besides that stuff. The nightmares..." Adri trails off. She has a habit of doing that.

I say nothing, and she takes my lack of reply as a yes. I don't deny it. Something_ is_ wrong. I feel off. I know that something is going to happen soon – I can feel it in my gut. And I'm positive that the something isn't going to be very good. But I don't know what I'm dreading. That might just be a good thing. *

I find out, soon enough. What I'm dreading shows up late February, surrounded with peacekeepers. It's a week before my victory tour, and the prep team will be here in three days, so I try to spend as much time with Annie and Sebastian as possible. One day, I come home from Annie's later than expected. When I get to the Victor's Village. Grant sees me and runs over. He looks like he's about to tell me something, but he just gives me a pat on the back. He looks different. He isn't is outgoing, flirtatious, usual self. His eyes are empty and his hands are shaking a little "Your life is about to get _so _fucked up." He sighs, wrinkles forming on his forehead. "I'm sorry. It's just part of all of _this_." If I wasn't scared by the twenty-something official Capitol Government cars outside my house, I'm terrified now. The President must be here. My dad is waiting at the door, and Adri looks scared too. Juliette is chatting with the ridiculously-dressed Capitol women at the kitchen table. They are silenced by my arrival. I must be in serious trouble somehow.

"Come with me please, Mister Odair." One of the men in a suit stands up to usher me to wherever we're going. He looks to be in his mid-forties, but has had plastic surgery to make him appear much younger. He just looks like a wax or plastic statue. He shows me upstairs and down the hallway to a door on the end by my room. The study. From the way things are, I feel like the guest here. The man points his arm at the room, and tells me to "Go inside. President Snow is waiting for you."

I enter the study, and sit at the desk. The old, puffy-lipped man is sitting in _my chair_ (which really isn't mine at all – this whole home is _his. _Everything is _his_.) and his dark snake-eyes stare straight into mine. I'm at least half a foot taller than the President, but I feel like cowering into the ground. He's intimidating, to say the least. He blots his mouth on a cloth in his jacket pocket, and finally breaks the silence. He shakes my hand and greets me charmingly. It feels too fake, regardless. "Mister Odair. It's nice to meet you again. How have you been?" He asks.

"President Snow." I say, greeting him in a curt manner. I feel uncomfortable being his close to _him_. Regardless, I suck it up and answer charmingly, "I'm well, and yourself? If you don't mind me asking, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He _never_ leaves the Capitol. I must be in trouble for something or another. I don't know what I've done that has required the ruler of Panem to come all the way out here to District Four.

He motions to the chair and I sit down facing him. I feel as if _I'm_ the intruder, the unexpected guest here. I dig my right thumb into the palm of my left hand. I'm sitting face to face with the most powerful man in the world. He could kill me in a second. Well he could have me killed in a hundred different ways if he wished. He clears his throat, and speaks. "Well first of all, I came by to congratulate you on your victory. You were very... courageous." I exhale. Maybe I'm not in trouble at all. For all I know, he does this for every victor. I remember what Grant said to me in front of my house, about how my life is going to be turned around once again, and my anxiety returns. "Well, the more important reason I'm here has to do with your future. I've come to you with a buisness proposition. I'm positive that if this works out, it will be _very_ profitable for both of us."

I instantly am suspicious. The President doesn't need any money, and neither do I. I raise an eyebrow, and decide to be adventurous. "What if I refuse?" I ask. I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth. That wasn't a good idea.

"Well, Finnick. District Four is a dangerous place. We both know how easy it is to get lost out at sea, or drown. Some of your relatives might be fatally clumsy." He responds without hesitation. Adrienne, my dad, Annie and Alana Cresta: their lives are disposable to him. He could – and apparently _will –_ easily kill all of them if I disagree. "And Mister Odair, you haven't even listen to my buisness proposition. Well the first fifteen are absolutely mandatory, as a way to pay off your extravagant gift, that silver trident that was given to you in the arena." He laughs evilly at my confusion. "What? You think your mentor _Grant _could have payed for it himself with his small pool of sponsors? The people who helped pay for it want something in return. I've personally spoken to them, and we all know what they want, and that you're going to be complacent. Aren't you?

"What _do_ they want?" I nod, but I'm still confused. "And what do you mean by _something in return_?"

"Do you really need me to spell it out for you? You're desirable, and many wealthy people would be interested in your _services_. You have to _repay_ the first fifteen. Anybody after that – I ask of you to, and if you refuse, there will be consequences. Still, the decision is yours. Disagreeing would be _very_ unwise."

I almost choke on my ice water. "You want me to be a _prostitute_?" I ask, dumbfounded. I've seen a few of them in the poorer sections of District Four. They only choose that as their career because of debts, poverty or failing out of school. It's disgraceful, and degrading. But most – no all of them are _women_.

President Snow nods curtly, and stands up to shake my hand. "Precisely. Don't look so shocked, you're by no means the first. That being said, you might be the most desirable man in Panem. Thank you for being so complacent." He brushes past me, and the faint smell of rose lingers in the air. I'm by 'no means the first'. That means some of the other victors must have been. _Grant_. I remember what he said, how this will fuck me up, but how it's just an inevitable victor thing. Fantastic. I look in the mirror at my reflection. I don't even know who I am anymore. _Finnick Odair, District 4. Celebrity, mass-murderer and part-time prostitute. And I'm only 14 years old, _I think. This is a disaster. I hear the unmistakeable slam of the door, and I wait for a moment before running out of the room and slamming the door behind me. I need to get out of here.

I sprint down the staircase, almost knocking over Juliette. She begins screams at me in her ridiculous Capitol accent, but I tune her out. Dad and Adri try to stop me at the door, but I push right pass them. I run out on the lawn and over to Natalie's. She's just finished smoking and is throwing out ashes. She and Grant are talking in hushed tones, which silence when they see me running towards them. I don't know what to do. I stop, short of breath, right in front of them, and Natalie hugs me. I return the hug, and don't let go for a while. I ignore the lingering smell of smoke in my hair and try to calm myself down. She's making cooing noises in my ear. After a minute or two, I pull away and sit down on the porch bench in between them. "You didn't exaggerate when you said this'll suck." I tell Grant. "Jeez. If I knew I'd have to deal with this, I would've never wanted to come out of that arena alive."

Natalie laughs and shakes her head. "Boy, you say that _now._ And you haven't even started." She lights up again, and Grant shakes his head at her. Whatever she's doing, Grant doesn't approve of. I think back. That must be why all the beautiful victors I've seen have been flirtatious. They're acting. I wonder if I can pull that act off as well. Natalie's question gets me out of my thoughts, "So, are you a virgin? Yeah, you're pretty hot for a kid, but you're only fourteen." When I don't respond, she cracks a smile. "Don't be shy. Seriously."

Grant answers for me. "No, he's not. Finn here screwed the girl tribute Lily from his district this year." I'm puzzled as to how he knew this. He just smirks at me. "We _all_ heard you. Seriously, you must be pretty good, especially if that was your first." Grant calms down for a minute, and takes on a serious tone. "Look, think of it as work. And half of them aren't that bad looking." He takes Natalie's cigarette out of her lips, and takes a pull, then offers it to me. "Cigarette? They used to be really bad for you in pre-Panem times, but the Capitol altered them so that they aren't unhealthy anymore. The reason you don't see anyone with them is because they're made in District Eleven, and sold in the Capitol."

I shrug, and take a pull. It's gross and I sputter out smoke (which causes Grant and Natalie to laugh hysterically), but I like it. It tingles my throat, and calms me down. After a few pulls, Natalie takes it back. I feel a lot better now. Which is good, I guess. I wonder if this is how the two of them cope with things. Maybe my nightmares won't be that bad if I have a little each night. "So, tell me. How does it work?"

"Well," Grant starts off. "You need training. You've already lost your virginity, so you don't need to sleep with anyone – it's customary. You do it so you remember this can be done for pleasure, and not just by force. But you also need to work on your kissing technique. And I think I know someone who you can practice that with. This girl from District Two. She won last year. Um, I think her name was Enobaria or something."

"Enobaria?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. "She's the girl who won by ripping out her opponent's throat, right? Well I'm not making out with her. She's weird." I realize I sound kind of mean, and backpedal a little. "Well I know that's hypocritical and all, and no offense to her, I'm just not interested. At all."

"Maybe he can make out with Blight." Natalie suggests jokingly. Both of us shoot her a look. Blight's a twenty year old from District 7. He won two years ago. I'd choose kissing Enobaria over kissing a guy any day. "Hey, I was joking. But seriously, you'd like Blight as a person. He's a pretty cool guy."

"_I'm_ a pretty cool guy." Grant laughs. I decide I like Grant and Natalie.

Five days later, my Ariel and prep team shows up, and gets me ready for the victory tour. They bathe me in various solutions, do my hair and tweeze my eyebrows. They chatter non-stop, as usual. But today for the first time, I listen instead of tuning them. They talk about which victors are _so_ hot and who chose the wrong hair dye color at which party and things like that. After what seems like a year (but is only a little more than an hour), they let me go, and I have to pack some clothes. Adrienne helps me, and Juliette even gives me input on which outfits are fashionable by the Capitol's standards.

Then, I have to say my goodbyes. This time, it's much less sad then the first time, since I know I'll be coming back. Annie and Alana stop by to say goodbye and thankfully Annie doesn't cry when I leave or I'd be really upset. Grant and Natalie come as my mentors this time. Mags stays home. She doesn't know about what I have to do (and apparently Grant and Natalie have to as well). When she won, Snow wasn't President of Panem, so there was no Victor prostitutes. Which sounds pretty good to me.

We get on the train, and begin the two day ride to District 12. We start there, and work our way back to District 5, skipping over 4, and continuing on Districts 3, 2 and 1. Then there's a _huge_ Capitol party at the President's mansion, and then a celebration in District 4. After that, I have a few months off (where I help Career training at the school), and then there's the reaping, where I'm responsible for the deaths of at least one of the kids. Most of the time, both of them. Hopefully, the next few years, we'll have many victors from District 4.

Even though District 12 is the smallest and the most overwhelmingly boring district, I'm still excited to go there. I get to see Haymitch again, and he seemed pretty cool. Half a year ago, he wanted to tell me something, but decided to just tell me not to worry about it. Now that I know what it is, I _can't_ not worry about it.

Grant and Natalie have helped me make two speeches. The first one, I use in every district, and it's been drilled into my head so well I can recite it perfectly in my sleep. It's the I'm-so-glad-I-won-and-I'm-discretely-rubbing-it-in-your-face-but-thank-you-anyways speech. I dislike it a lot – it's cocky and borderline rude. But I'm the beautiful, flirty, unobtainable but oh-so-wanted Finnick Odair, and I better start acting like it. The second, I use in Districts 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and 12. It's the sorry-for-killing-your-kids speech. Which I detest the fact that I've caused so many people pain for such a dumb reason bothers me beyond belief. But it _is _a fight to the death, oh well. What makes me wonder why people don't run away screaming is that I singlehandedly killed twelve people in my games. That's half the tributes. I broke a record, not that I'm that proud of it. Haymitch killed less people than that, and he was in an arena with 48 kids. Usually, most victors make a third speech in the district that their allies originated from. But I didn't have any allies, so I didn't have to worry about that. Which is pretty good for me, and them. I would be pretty pissed if my child was friends with a killer.

When we get to District 12, after I give my speech, Haymitch shows us around a little. We walk through the relatively wealthy part of the district, and go to the little shops. It's quiet, and I like it. Haymitch must hate it. He's the only victor, and lives by himself. He's drunk every day, and passed out with a knife in his hand every night. I wonder what happened to his family. I'm not an idiot, so I don't ask. It doesn't stop me from wondering though.

The districts blend together. 12. 11. 10. 9. 8. Something amazing happens when I get to District 7. Little do I know that this'll probably change my life forever. We're eating dinner at the District Mayor's home. He's there with his wife and children, along with a petite brunette who looks out of place. She rolls her wide set brown eyes every time I make a flirtatious or cocky comment. As we're leaving, she manages to walk past me and whisper so only I can hear, "You know, _Finnick Odair_, you're not as amazing as you think." As she walks by, I notice that she's moving her hips a lot more than is natural for a girl walking. The teenage boy in my brain reminds me that even though she's a bitch, she's really _hot_.

I ask Grant about her later. He smirks when I bring her up. "That's the mayor's friend's daughter. Her family died earlier this year, but don't be sympathetic about it. She doesn't really care anymore, and she lives with the mayor only because they won't let her live by herself."

"What's her name?" I ask, suddenly intrigued.

Grant pauses for a minute, before responding, "Johanna Mason."

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like it? Please review!

Reviews are love!


	7. Chapter 7

Johanna Mason. Hm. I can't get her out of my head. I find myself replaying the evening, trying to see if she was sending me any signals. The only thing I got is that she doesn't think I'm 'as amazing as I think I am'. But I _don't_ think I'm all that great. She must be doing that girl thing. I don't think anyone understands girls.

Districts 6, 5, 3, 2, and 1 aren't that interesting. Nothing really happens that's out of the ordinary. I just reiterate the same speeches and flirt at dinners, get on the train, repeat. It's tolerable, and I'm pretty good at it too. Finally, we get to the Capitol. Though I'm not relieved by my showing up here. The crowd of rich freaks cheers for me and chants my name so loud it echos throughout the room. I grin in response, and act flirtatious as usual. We stay in the training center apartments like last year. It's clear that nobody's been in here, not even an avox. An empty cup remains on my nightstand table, and my shirt I forgot to bring home is still hanging out of my dresser drawer. The bedsheets still smell like Lily. I still care about her, and miss her laugh. I go through her side of the bed, and her room to see if I can find anything of hers that she left behind. I can't find anything in her room, but I see a white paper sticking out of the nightstand drawer, on her side of the bed. I pull it out, curious. It says, in her neat, bubbly handwriting.

_Finnick:_

_You're an amazing person, and I really do mean that when I say it. If you're reading this it means you did it. I'm so proud of you, I know you could do it._

_xo, Lily_

_PS: Good luck with that Annie girl. You deserve to be happy._

I don't know how to feel. It's as if everyone – my district, my opponents, the gamemakers, hell even President Snow – they all wanted me to win. I'm not sure if I should be flattered, or feel cheated somehow. I decide to not think about it. I just feel sort of bitter. Grant comes in a few minutes later. I wouldn't have heard his tiptoes, but I felt him breathing behind me. He wants to talk, but doesn't want to bother me. I get that. I give him a closed-mouth smile, my lips forming a tight line with the ends curved up subtly. Grant sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. "So you have your first client tonight. She's very rich. You're already dressed – get ready to go. There's a car coming to drive you there. It'll be here in ten minutes." Grant looks like he's about to say something else, but doesn't. As he walks out, I hear him mutter "I'm so sorry this is happening to you, but I couldn't do anything about it. You just don't argue with presidents."

My first client is a wealthy Capitol woman in her mid-thirties. She probably was beautiful at one point, but has gotten many alterations to fit in here. The Capitol has the weirdest fashion trends: pastel skin tint, neon hair colors, fake nails that are practically half a foot long. She's nice to me, but looks at me like I'm a meal. I'm half her age. It's awkward and uncomfortable for me, but she seems to enjoy herself a _lot. _No matter how weird, I learn a handful of valuable things from her. First, sex isn't romantic – it's passionate. The harder and faster the better, but make sure they come before you do. It's fucking, not love making. Second, you have to kiss their body – their navel, their neck, but never their lips. That's for people you care about, not people who payed to have sex with you. Third, always use a condom. Even if the women say that they're on birth control. Fourth, lways tell the women that they're beautiful or hot. And the last and most important rule: _never ever_ stay the night. Most of them have husbands, and they won't be happy to see you in bed with their wife. I get out of there as quick as I've shown up, and I never come back.

I only have one appointment today. From what I've heard, I could have five to six in a row. It's crazy. But then again if it were normal, it wouldn't be the Capitol and it certainly wouldn't be my life. I have just enough time to freshen up when I get back to the training center apartments before Ariel's dragging my downstairs so I can have my final interview with Caesar Flickerman. He looks exactly the same with his midnight blue hair, sequined suit and eyelids. I wonder if he ages. Probably not. The Capitol has procedures for that, to make you look younger. Back in District 4, you only got surgeries if you were really ill. Here they do it to make them selves look (what they think is) more appealing.

Caesar welcomes me, and the crowd goes wild. They love me. I wave hello, at sit down on the familiar white chair. I don't mind Caesar, as far as Capitol citizens go. He must have it pretty bad, since most of the people he talks to end up dying. I think he's less ignorant about how the Games hurt the districts. Most Capitol people see it as an exciting television show, and don't realize that people are dying since it's so far removed from their lives. He knows how to make the crowd like everyone. It's not a lot of work for him with me.

We have some good natured chit-chat for a little about the victory tour, and some of my outfits. Then, he asks me if anything ever happened with the girl I liked back home. _Annie_. I shake my head no. "Well Caesar, to be honest. It just doesn't work out romantically for us. But she's still a close friend. Yeah, I'm pretty bummed out, but on the bright side that means I'm single, ladies." I hear a bunch of them cheer wildly, and have to try very hard to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Caesar catches on that I'm trying to act flirtatious, and purposely asks me a few questions so I can play up that angle. When the buzzer goes, signaling the end of my interview, he stands up and gives me a hug. I hear the static in my microphone, which means the audience can't hear me. "Thank you." I whisper in his ear.

Caesar nods, and mumbles, "of course, anytime. You be careful, kid." He then raises my hand in the air, and shouts: "Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Annual Hunger Games!" There's a deafening roar of applause, and I walk off stage. That wasn't that bad. I have the night off. Tomorrow's the party at the President's mansion, and then I get to go home and have a celebration in my home district. Things'll go back to a relative normal, and then a few months later, some poor innocent kids will get reaped to kill other poor innocent kids. Whoever wins will go through the same cycle. It never stops, and it never will.

What was the Capitol's point of having the Hunger Games in the first place? We've all seen that terrible video about the Dark Days that they play every year before the Reaping. It talks about _war, terrible war_ and how 65 years ago, thirteen districts rebelled against the Capitol. But why? Surely they had a reason. District 13 was blown up, and the other 12 have to make their kids fight to the death every year. Wait, I get it. The only time the districts have united, or shown friendship with another district was 65 years ago. If people hate other districts because of the boy from 6 killing their child, or the girl from 1, killing someone else's child, they'll never join forces to bring down the Capitol, ever again. As much I hate Snow, the previous President, and whoever created these terrible Games, I have to admit that they were pretty smart. I'm never having kids. They could get reaped, and that in itself is terrifying to think about.

The next day is pretty lazy. I have another appointment, and I think I'm a bit better in bed now. I only have appointments when I'm in the Capitol for mentoring, victory tours or anything of that sort. Practice makes perfect. By this time next year, I'll probably be a sex god. Not that it'll go to use. I wouldn't want to date anyone, or have sex with anyone I care about. _Who would date a prostitute?_ Besides, most people my age are still virgins. For good reason too. Fourteen or fifteen year-olds who have sex for the first time probably won't know what they're doing, and might even get pregnant. That in itself is terrifying. It's like Dahlia being Adrienne's daughter. I know one teenage mother. I've seen her walking around 4 before. She's sort of a pariah, but nobody will admit it.

I get back to the apartment a little after two in the afternoon. I have enough time to take a short nap, shower, and get ready to go to the party being thrown in my favor.

While I obviously have nothing pleasant to say about President Snow, I have to admit his mansion is nothing short of amazing. It's in the center of the Capitol, but is secluded by a long winding road. It's four or five stories tall with and must be at least ten times the size of my home in the Victor's Village. I would never want to live in a house that big. It must be lonely. I know Snow has a wife and children who are full-grown and married, but the idea of him loving anyone or anything besides power and money is incomprehensible. _How could anyone with children condone teenagers fighting to the death? _I shake these thoughts out of my head. Now is not the time to be moral. I'm cocky Capitol Finnick Odair, and I need to start acting and thinking like a celebrity.

I talk and dance and sip bubbly champagne (when Grant slips me some) with the important people Ariel points out to me. I walk around, and try to sample at least a bite of one dish from every tables. There's separate tables for soups, salads, vegetables, fruit, each kind of meat, pastas, 'district food' and tables full of side dishes. There has to be at least thirty tables just for desserts.

Some of Juliette's friends find me throughout the night to offer congratulations, or just to say hello. I recognize most of them from her wedding to my dad. While that was quite a few years ago, I still remember how kind and excited but overly-freakish looking they were. That was my first experience with Capitol people, and I haven't changed my mind about them. I dislike Capitol not just because of their luxurious, wasteful, extravagant, narcissistic nature that just makes them unbearable to talk to for more than a few minutes at a time. I really, really, deep-down despise them because they don't know how they impact others, and how many people they've indirectly killed for their entertainment. I honestly wonder how Capitol people stand _each other _sometimes. I also don't know how the mentors manage to converse with them. I guess if the lives of two children are on the line, it's tolerable.

In my opinion, the most terrible thing_ isn't_ that I have to spend even **more** time with and around Capitol people and that I'll be sleeping with them against my will for money I don't even get. The worst part is I'll be responsible for even more deaths; at least one for every year. That's one person who could've been a classmate or even a friend of mine. I'm still in the age range of twelve to eighteen, which are the ages that kids are able to be reaped in. _Annie_ could get reaped. I know for a fact she'd die early on. Even for a girl from a Career district. Annie is too good of a person, too morally right. She wouldn't hurt a fly. The games are even more despicable from a mentor's standpoint. We experienced them, have nightmares about the time we spent in the arena, and have to go back to the Capitol every year and come home having murdered _even more_ children. And since I'm the youngest victor, I'm gonna mentoring every year until there two more victors from District 4 are crowned. That's at least five years, or 8 kids. Probably more. Still, my body count will be 20.

I try to enjoy my party. The food is exquisite, and the musicians are very talented. I don't know the songs, because they're made by Capitol musicians, but they're good at singing, and everyone at the party loves them. I flirt with the purple-eyed bartender, and she sneaks me half a shot of some type of liquor in my soda. It burns my throat and I feel terrible for drinking, and vow not to ever try it again until I'm 16. 16's the legal age for everything in the Capitol – drinking alcohol, getting morphling in hospitals, and smoking cigarettes (what Natalie does). I drink the rest of the soda, and follow it with a glass of ice water, before making my way over to Ariel, Grant and Natalie. They appear to be saying goodbye to people.

"Finnick!" Ariel calls when she sees me. "Are you ready to go? Our car is here. I _hate_ being late for anything. I hope you enjoyed your party. It was extravagant, and absolutely fantastic! I love working for District Four. Anyways, I've had a thank-you note sent out to the President from you. Come on now, we have go get some rest. Your train to take you home here will be here at eight o'clock sharp." Ariel hurries my two mentors and I onto the train and says goodbye. "I'm going to my home now. I'll see you on Reaping day!" She kisses my cheek and bows in the way that all polite Capitol people do to say hello or goodbye.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in when the car starts moving down the street, away from President Snow's mansion. I feel so much better when I'm not near _him. _I lean back on the seat in the back of the car, not even feeling squished between Grant and Natalie. Grant looks at me quizzically, but then smiles a little. Natalie just puts her hand on my shoulder. "You did good, kid." Grant tells me. He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but shakes his head and shrugs. Natalie raises one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at him, with the same look of confusion I'm wearing. "We'll talk later." He tells her. I feel slightly excluded, but I try not to think about myself for a minute. If it concerned me, Grant would tell me. Chances are, it has nothing to do with me. And with everything that's been going on, I don't know if I want to know what Grant means to say if it's about me anyways.

When we get back to the training center apartments, it's a little before one. We're getting up at seven to get on our train back home to 4, which I'm looking forward too. I'll probably sleep on the train or something. I crawl into bed, and try to get a few hours of sleep before we leave.

I _do _get a few hours of sleep, but its haunted by nightmares. I dream of the purple-eyed bartender being my avox, and Annie being reaped. I wake up with a sweaty forehead and headache at five-thirty, and luckily, manage to close my eyes peacefully for a little more. I'm jolted awake by a second nightmare, where Johanna Mason is in the arena and kills me with my trident slowly and painfully. It's six, so I probably could try to get more sleep, but I don't. Instead, I just stand under the hot water in my shower for a good hour, before slowly getting dressed and packing up. Against my better judgement, I bring home the note Lily left for me. It's too bad she was reaped the same year as me, or at all. If she was a better fighter, maybe she would've won. She was beautiful. Then again, Lily would have been forced into prostitution like myself. I wonder if I should keep a list of all the people I've slept with. It's not that long: just Lily and two Capitol women. That list only has one person that I care about. *

A few minutes into the train ride, there's clanking and a loud boom. The train's broken down, and according to an attendant, it needs to be sent in for repairs. Grant, Natalie and I are escorted to a hovercraft that will bring us home to District 4. It's not like the hovercraft I took to our coming out of the arena. This one is meant for passengers. It's shaped like an eight, with the front circle being a room where the pilot drives and the two Capitol attendants sit. It's connected via a door to the passenger seats, which there are twenty of, in five rows – two chairs on each side. Each chair has it's own small television and a small platter with food and a mini bottle of white wine. It seems unnecessary for an hour-and-a-half long flight. It's easy to sit that long, and just keep to yourself. Then again, this is meant for Capitol people. They have a ridiculous need to be constantly entertained, and go to crazily extreme extents like the Hunger Games. It's almost pathetic. I wonder what most Capitol people do for a living. They probably work at a job with short hours and not a lot of actual work involved. Most Capitol people don't even wake up until after ten or eleven. I didn't even do that on weekends, and now my nightmares prevent it.

I sit still for the whole hovercraft ride, only moving to thank the attendant that refills my plastic cup of ice water every fifteen minutes. I see Grant and Natalie shoots me looks, but don't say anything. I'm thankful for that. I'm glad to be heading home, but I feel changed. As if District 4 isn't my home anymore. If the home I've known my whole life isn't a home to me, then _what is_?

The hovercraft begins it's slow decent to District 4. We must be close. I become slightly anxious, and grip onto the side of my chair so hard my knuckles turn white. I relax my muscles when I notice Grant's eyes trained on me. I take a few deep breaths, and take my bags from the chair next to me. _Just act normal. But a little bit cockier._ I step out of the hovercraft and into the blinding white sun. I feel more at ease just being back in District 4. I wave at the large cheering crowd. Unlike in the other districts, the people here actually like the fact that I won. Probably with a few exceptions, like Lily's family. I wonder if they hate me. Grant holds onto my bags, and I give my victory speech in front of a temporarily built stage (just for me), adding a few words here in there , making it personalized just for 4. Mayor Hill hands me a plaque and a bouquet of roses. I'll be having a dinner at the mayor's house, so I'll be seeing the mayor soon, in around an hour. I have enough time to freshen up and change into a suit. Usually, there's a large festival in the middle of the district buildings, but it's been canceled due to a large fire that took place there three or four days prior to my arrival.

I've always admired Mayor Beth Hill. She's the first woman mayor that District 4's ever had, and is very outspoken. Mayor Hill always does what's best for the District, and is compassionate. She must secretly hate the Games too. Her husband and her have a daughter named Caroline. The idea of getting a child reaped is terrifying for all parents. Caroline, or Cara is a beautiful girl, and most of the boys in the district have drooled over her at one point or another. I had a crush on her a few years back, but I don't think she's ever noticed me. I don't really care either way. The last thing I want now is female attention. Besides, Sebastian likes her right now. He's probably the closest friend I have besides Annie. I miss Annie. Ever since I told her that I have feelings for her, she's been a little distant. We still talk all the time, but I feel like our friendship is a little tainted. Regardless, I haven't seen Annie for a while since she's gad school and homework and I never have to go to school ever again.

Still, the dinner is nice. Mayor Hill, her husband, Cara, important people from the district, Grant, Natalie and I are all at a large table in the dining room. The dinner is fish that's native to 4, and is served with wine and a buttery pasta. Cara is wearing a short, tight silver dress, and her long brown hair is in a bun with a few pieces left out around her face. She keeps touching my foot with her own, and giving me small flirty smiles whenever our eyes meet. I wonder what she's up to. After the dinner, we all move to the lounge while the two waitresses clear the table and prepare dessert. Cara sits next to me on a couch in the lounge, sitting very close.

She crosses her legs, and her skirt rises up so I can see the tops of her thighs. _Finnick, stop that. Stop being a teenage boy for a minute_. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and licks her pink lips. "Finnick Odair, hm?" She thinks out loud, pausing for a minute. "You were in my class when were were seven, nine, and thirteen years old, right?" She nods, and leans on me a little. Reapings are held on July second every year. She must have started year fifteen in September, and the year's almost done. It's the end of February, and school ends in June. My birthday is in April.

I look around. We're the only people in the room – all the adults are at the bar. Cara places her hand on my leg, and I look at her quizzically. "What are you doing?" I ask her. _Is she making a move on me or something_?

Cara laughs. It's an amazing sound, and the high-pitched peals of laughter seem to echo off the high ceilings and wallpapered walls. She sighs, and mutters something under her breath. "It's not that hard to figure out. I've seen how you've been staring at me. Not just tonight, but the past few years. You're hot, I'm hot, what are you waiting for? Here's your invitation." I pause, letting it all sink in. Cara Hill, the most popular girl in District likes _me_ of all people. Rather, she thinks I'm hot. This is all pretty new to me. _Then again, I'm pretty attractive, by the Capitol's standards. _I mutter 'fuck it' under my breath, and put my hand on Cara's neck, careful not to mess up her hair. Before I can stop myself or regret it, I close the small gap between our lips.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like it? Be honest. Reviews = love!


	8. Chapter 8

I pull away after a moment, and Cara smiles at me, her cheeks flushed pink. We both laugh a little, and it's a good thing that we stopped kissing when we did because Mayor Hill walks right in with Grant. She gives me a warm smile and shakes my hand. "We're very proud of you, Finnick." She tells me. Mayor Hill sees right through the Games, and knows how terrible they are. Her daughter is of reaping age. She could get picked next year, or the year after. We return to the dining room to have dessert, and then we get ready to go home. Cara walks me to the door and kisses my cheek, leaving a lips shaped mark the color of her red lipstick. Grant, Natalie and I leave, and I tell Cara I'll see her around. Natalie chuckles after we leave.

"Jeez, Finnick. _Everywhere_ you go, you have to find a girl. You're gonna get a bit of a reputation." Grant tells me, laughing good-naturedly. I think it's safe to say the last thing I care about is my reputation. I'm a _prostitute_, for crying out loud. Grant seems to know what I'm thinking, and he pats me on my shoulder. "It's a joke. Being a player would probably be a good rep for you to have. Finnick Odair, player, heartbreaker."

"I don't wanna actually hurt anyone emotionally. All the people I _willingly_ kiss, I do because I think they're attractive, or I care about them. I don't want to be known as a cocky asshole." I argue quietly, making sure nobody is in earshot.

Natalie stops us from walking and pulls us aside. She sighs before telling me the hard truth. "Look, Finnick. I don't think you wanna hear this, but you must notice it a little by now. You're not _you_. Not anymore, at least. Ever since your name was drawn from that bowl, you've been changed completely. Around your family and close friends, around Grant and I – you can be yourself. But in public, and _especially _in the Capitol or in front of the press cameras, you're not Finn. You're Finnick Odair, victor and heart throb. You're cocky and flirtatious, and _very_ well aware of how good-looking you are. You spend time with the rich, and take their gifts, and then you're gone and you never come back. Guys want to be you, and girls want to be _with_ you. It's just a bit of acting. Believe me, thats what you need to do. I hate that I'm telling you to be something you're not – but it's for the safety of your loved ones and yourself. If you slip up, you might put them or yourself in a fatal situation. That's just life now, and you need to accept it." She pats my cheek, and steps away. "Let's get you home, okay? You've had a very long day, and now you get to lay low and relax for a couple months. It's like a vacation of sorts."

I thank both Grant and Natalie for everything, and hug them tightly before walking inside. Adrienne stayed up waiting for me to come home. She smiles when she sees me, and stands up to hug me. Adrienne knows I haven't changed, and still treats me the same. I'll never be able to thank her enough for that. "You look like you had fun." She says, and ruffles up my hair a little. "It's late. I know you don't have school in the morning tomorrow, or ever again for that matter, but you still should try to get to bed at a normal hour." I hug her goodnight, and change into my pajamas: a pair of sweatpants. I spend more time shirtless now, and apparently my body is fantastic, so I should show it off. I take a pen and write on the palm of my hand: **WWCFD? **It stands for _What Would Capitol Finnick Do_? I need to start acting like who people think I am. But I can deal with that in the morning.

Living like a victor is a lot different from the life I knew before my Games. I wake up at ten thirty every morning, and I go for a run along the beach to clear my head. After that, I come home, eat a late breakfast (_brunch, _they call it) and swim in the pool or lie in the sun. Around two or three in the afternoon, I check the mail and read the Capitol tabloids. I watch the CEC – Capitol Entertainment Channel, and they always talk about what's going on currently in the Capitol: the latest fashion trends, celebrity drama and gossip. Luckily, I'm never mentioned. I go to Annie's house after school some days and on the weekends. We hang out all the time, but nothing romantic ever develops. I'm okay with that though. Being "just friends" is fine with me. But sometimes I catch her glancing at me, and I wonder if she feels the way I feel about her. Annie Cresta. I like her. A lot. No matter who I make out or have sex with, I care about her, and only her.

The days go by fairly quickly. Before I know it, reaping day is here. That used to terrify me (and it still does, but for no real reason now). On Reaping Day, I wake up an hour later than usual. I pack a bag because I'm going to the Capitol, but it's much less sad than last time. Adri still tears up a little. I dress nicely and meet up with the victors who are going to the Capitol this year. Natalie and I are mentoring – usually the youngest two victors mentor, and both a boy and girl is preferred. Most victors return for the event anyways. Only Grant is coming this year. Mags usually goes, but she doesn't want to this year. I don't blame her.

Instead of waiting in the pen with all the other fifteen year olds, I sit on a stage in a row of chairs on the back of the stage, next to Mayor Hill, Grant and Natalie. Ariel shows the same video that she has since she's been escorting, and gives the same speech. She says "Ladies First!" as always, and calls the name of a twelve year old, who's quickly replaced by an eighteen year old named Stephanie. I've seen her around, she's a classic career. "And now for the boys." I used to tremble at this part. Now I don't, I just fear for whoever is to be reaped. It's a boy my age named Nick. He's shy, and looks terrified. Not that I blame him. Nobody volunteers.

Stephanie and Nick are escorted to the justice building where their friends and family can meet with them. Twenty or so people come to say goodbye to Stephanie. But the only person who says goodbye to Nick is a younger boy who looks like he could be a brother or cousin. We wave goodbye, and get on the train.

Natalie quickly explains the basics of mentoring to me. I'm basically acting like an older friend or role model to them. I ask them about themselves, and I work together with them to create a plan so they can win. What weapons can they use, what should their angle be during the interviews, and the most important question: would they be willing to kill? If the answer to the last question is a definite no, then they probably won't win. Nobody's a victor by chance. We're all bad people.

After our tributes have settled in, Natalie and I talk to them in the lounge car. Natalie starts. "Hey. I'm Natalie, and that's Finnick. I won the 58th Hunger Games. Finnick won last year. Basically, we're here to help you, and we'll be there by your side leading up to the Games, and into the arena. But if you want to win, you need to not be dependent on us. We're here if you need us, but we're not your crutch."

I take over, not wanting Natalie to scare them. "There's another victor, Grant. He's not mentoring this year, but he's coming with us to the Capitol. As mentors, we're friends or people you can confide in. You can come to us for anything, and I mean _anything. _I'm positive we can bring one of you home this year. We're gonna split up, I'll work with one of you and Natalie will work with the other. Do you two wanna pick who your mentor is?"

"I want you." Stephanie tells me, smiling. Her voice is very high-pitched, and I want to wince a little when she talks.

"And I'd like to work with Natalie if that's okay." Nick mumbles. Thankfully, this worked out well.

We all go to television car to watch the recaps of the reapings. As usual, the tributes from Districts 12, 11 and 10 are weak-looking and malnourished. There's nobody special in District 9, but the boy from 8 seems pretty strong. He might have a chance. I'm caught off-guard when the escort from 7 calls out _Johanna Mason. _I turn to Natalie, and she's as shocked as I am. "That's _her_." I gasp. Natalie looks somewhat uncomfortable. There's nobody from Districts 6 or 5, and then they show our reaping. The commentator keeps talking about how dapper I look in my suit, and it aggravates me. District 3 is boring. Districts 1 and 2 have Careers, and they seem pretty scary. I'd say the only threats this year are the tributes from 1 and 2, the boy from 8 and Stephanie. Johanna's scary, but she's tiny. I don't think she would actually hurt anyone. Then again, I don't know her at all. I guess I never will. Unless of course, she wins. I guess we'll have to wait and see. _Don't mess up your first time mentoring just because of some District 7 girl. It's not worth it,_ I remind myself. I need to focus. I'm going to keep Stephanie alive. But first I'll have to talk to her for a little to see if this'll even be possible. She's a classic career, so I have high hopes for her.

Stephanie and I go to her compartment on the train to talk for a little. I sit down uncomfortably on the corner of her bed. It feels weird giving advice to someone older than me, especially someone who probably is better-trained than I am. But I have experience that Stephanie doesn't have. Maybe I can be of help to her. "So Stephanie, do you wanna tell me a little about yourself?" I ask her awkwardly, "Like, your personality, your life back home, what skills you possess, any hidden talents..." I trail off, realizing I sound like a terribly cliché guidance councelor or one of those older teachers who try to be cool and friends with the students, but fail miserably. _Great_.

Stephanie pauses for a minute, and shrugs. She takes off her grey sweater leaving her in a flattering pink dress. "Well, you can call me Steph. Only my _mother_ calls me Stephanie." From the way she says mother, I can tell that she doesn't have the best relationship with her mom. "I live at home with my parents. I have a brother, but he's twenty-five and has been married for three years. She's three months pregnant. If I die, they're gonna name it after me. I'm kind of a laid-back person, I just like to hang out." Stephanie pauses and jokingly asks, "Am I doing okay? Will I get a grade on this or something?"

I crack a smile at her. "You're doing great. This isn't a test; you're not gonna get graded. I'm just wanna learn about you so we can figure what your strategy in the arena and for your interview will be. So, now skills. I know you went to training like everyone else in District 4 does in school, and you seem like you'd be a Career tribute. Do you have a specialty, or something you're good with? For example, I'm pretty good with a trident. And um, I also wanted to know why you volunteeed." Surprisingly, it isn't that hard to have a conversation with Stephanie. I'm not that bad at this mentoring stuff. I guess I'll also improve over time with more experience.

"Awesome. I always assumed I'd join the career pack. It'd probably be best for me.I'm nowhere _near_ as good as you are with the trident. Um, I can use spears and make knots from being in District 4 all my life, and I learned how to use swords and throw knives from training. I'm actually pretty good at throwing knives. I'll show you after dinner if you'd like." Steph tells me, and I smile a bit. She seems like she'll do well. She's pretty well rounded. Steph takes a deep breath before answering my last question. "Well, in all honesty, I don't know. I just felt like I was supposed to be in the Games this year. I don't even know the girl I volunteered for. But she came to visit me before we left, and she was crying and was so thankful, that I feel like even if I _do_ die, which could happen to me easily – this _is_ the Hunger Games, it would be okay because that little girl doesn't have to die." She looks down, as if she's somehow embarrassed by her statement. I think that's amazing. I decide I like Stephanie.

For the rest of the two-day train ride to the Capitol, I try to keep Steph's mind off the Capitol. By doing so, I keep my mind off that wretched place. We chat for hours until she falls asleep, and tell stories from when we grew up. It's nice to be close friends with someone who doesn't judge you, even if only for a little. As soon as we step off the train in the Capitol, she'll see me become a different person.

And, I do. I go from the real Finnick that I've been for most of my fifteen years of existence to the cocky teenage celebrity sex god that the Capitol recognizes me as. I don't know if I like this double-life of sorts, but I don't really have a choice either way. If I'm given a part, I'll play it. Especially if my loved one's lives are on the line. If I screw up, Annie, Sebastian, Cara (if he saw us kiss, and Snow sees everything) or even Dahlia (when she's older) could get reaped. So I can't mess up. I just have to perfect, so I will be. As soon as Steph and Nick step off the train in the Capitol station followed by Ariel, the crowd screams. It escalates to a deafening roar when Grant, Natalie and I step off the train, bags in hand. I smile seductively and wink at a few women, who faint. _Do they not care I'm fifteen years old? The Capitol loves, no obsesses over me, and I'm not of legal age for another year. Not that they care._ _It's disgusting._ I try to turn my thoughts off. I can't break my facade. There's too much at stake; I have everything to lose. I'm the most powerful and most vulnerable I've ever been in my whole life at the same time.

We take a limo to the training center. We don't see any of the other tributes, but I see a few victors I recognize from over the years: Chaff, a man with one arm from District 11 who's been with a bottle and Haymitch for the last fifteen years. Brutus, the crazily energetic and ridiculously muscular victor from 2. He won the 52nd Hunger Games, the year before Grant. Brutus loves mentoring, and has done it every year since he was crowned at the age of eighteen. He was and still is a classic Career.

Steph and Nick are stunned by the beauty and extravagance of the Capitol. I don't blame them, it's astonishing and marvelous, but so wasteful for no reason. I've been moved to a mentor's room – which is twice the size and has so many more amenities. The mentors will be here until the Games are over, while the tributes will not, except, of course for the victor. I lay on my bed, just relaxing. The tributes are are meeting up with their stylists, and the tribute parade is later tonight. Then they have three days of training and after the interview they're sent off into the arena. According to the small slip of paper on my desk, I have two hour-long appointments today. My car will pick me up in an hour, so I probably should get ready, but there's not much to do. I just put on nice clothes, and fix up my hair before leaving. Grant shoots me a sympathetic look, and walks down with me. I notice he looks well-dressed too. "You too?" I ask after the elevator doors close behind us. Grant nods, but doesn't make eye contact with me.

Grant gets dropped off first. We both have two today. My first buyer is a somewhat short plump woman with orange colored hair and matching skin. I think her alterations are hideous and she wears too much makeup, but I never say that, god no. I compliment and charm the pants off her. Not that it takes that much work to do. She _did_ pay a small fortune for me. It's probably pocket change for a Capitol socialite like herself. Anyways, she's pretty good, but it's hard to get off when the person you're fucking is strange. Regardless, customer satisfaction comes first.

After, we lay in her plush bed for a little. After a few moments, I get an idea. What if I ask her something? Surely these Capitol people have a few dirty secrets. "Tell me a secret?" I ask, unsure. I quickly compose myself, and smirk to keep up the act. She smiles and sighs, leaning back on the headboard before answering my question.

My second client isn't tolerable at all. I don't realize until I get upstairs to the apartment that the person who has paid to have sex with me is a man. *

I get in the car, yelping in pain as I sit on my sore ass. Grant raises an eyebrow in confusion, and I sigh. "I officially hate boys." I tell him unhappily. He shudders and pats my shoulder sympathy. Yep, I hate boys. Even more than I hate girls. I don't _like_ boys – I like girls and their boobs and butts and soft hair and pretty faces. I don't like other people's junk anywhere near me. Especially _in_ me. If I didn't before, I definitely hate President Snow. No, hate doesn't begin to describe the absolute detestation I feel when I think of him. I bite my tongue so hard I taste the metallic tinge of blood, and I begin to see red. I want to _kill_ him. But I can't. I vow that before I die, he will. And I promise that he will suffer.

Grant groans in frustration and leans his head back on the car seat. "Look, I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to hear it. You need to realize you don't have a choice in this stuff. You just have to go with it and try not to cause any problems. I know it's gonna be very hard – its an almost impossible task for me, but you have to _try_. So the only thing you can do right now is just put your foot in your mouth and suck it up. You're saving lives, even if it means being unhappy for an hour or so. Your family is safe, that's all that matters." I nod, taking in his advice. He's one hundred percent right.

We get back to the training center with an hour before the tribute parade is going to start. Natalie is sitting at the table, cigarette in hand. She's chatting with a drunk Haymitch Abernathy. She waves hello when we come in, and stands up to walk out. She's wearing a tight red dress and _oh._ Not her too. _It seems like every single victor a prostitute or something._ Haymitch rolls his eyes and guffaws. "Jeez, kid. You_ wreak_. Take a shower." I frown a little – I smell like a disgusting combination of sweat, Capitol perfume and the musky scent of sex.

"Thanks dad." I smirk and roll my eyes at him before taking a quick shower. Sometimes, I'd sit in shower for hours at a time, just reflecting about life and other things. But I just wash my body and hair using the ridiculously large selection of creams and soaps from the electronic dispenser that takes up one of the whole shower walls. I find one that sort of smells like the ocean, and decide to use it. Even though its artificial and too strong to be the sea from District 4, it's close enough. I smell like home. I wrap a towel around my waist and go out to the living room to grab a soda or something. Grant, Haymitch and another guy who looks to be nineteen or twenty stop talking and just stare at me in disbelief when they see what I'm wearing, or lack thereof. "What?" I ask them, and grab a can of soda from the fridge. I ignore the blonde avox in the corner checking me out. _Not her too_.

I take a few sips and put on a powder blue polo shirt with dress pants. I think I look pretty good. I comb my damp hair and run my fingers through it to mess it up a little, and walk back out to finish my soda. "Look, he's wearing clothes." Grant says jokingly, seeing me. He laughs a little, and then motions for me to sit down next to him in a chair. "This is Blight. He won the 62nd Hunger Games. Blight, this is _the_ famous Finnick Odair." Grant introduces us. I roll my eyes at his comment, and then say hello to Blight. I remember his games, they were one of the remotely boring ones. It was a desert, and most of the tributes died from dehydration in the first three or four days. But Blight was smart, cutting open plants to find water and getting gifts from sponsors. He also was able to get an awl at the Cornucopia, which he used for both food and killing. I always admired his survival skills. We don't have time to talk for long though, since the tribute parade is going to start soon.

The tributes are in the usual cliched outfits from their districts; Steph and Nick are wearing sea themed outfits with little fish on them. I think it's hideous, but the crowd seems to love it. That's really all that matters. "The stylist from 7 is ridiculous. She's been dressing us up in tree costumes for as maybe thirty years." Blight tells me, frowning unhappily. District 7 produces lumber for all of Panem, and it's hard to dress someone up as a log, so they get stuck with trees. "I guess it could be worse, we could be coal miners." He shrugs, and we both laugh a little. Haymitch, who I didn't even realize is right behind us, laughs too.

"You have no idea how annoying those friggin' costumes are." Haymitch grumbles. I'm beginning to understand his drunken slurred speech. "Coal miners, or worse, coal by itself." I smile a little, not knowing what to say in response. I hear Blight mumble an _oh great_, and I look to see the tributes from district seven. They're wearing wood-print brown jumpsuits and green headpieces that I think are supposed to look like leaves. Johanna scowls, and looks right past the audience. She doesn't wave or smile. Yet, I'm still drawn to her like an insect to a flame. She's mesmerizing.

* * *

**A/N: **How was that? Review if you liked it!

Reviews = love.


	9. Chapter 9

Grant seems to notice. "Do you ever stopthinking of who you're gonna fuck next?" He asks me teasingly. I snap out of my stare at Johanna Mason and glare it him. "No, of course you don't. Teenage_ whore-mones _and all that crap." I frown when he emphasizes the word 'whore'.

I raise an eyebrow at him. I need to act like me."No, I don't. And I don't _need _to stop, because I can get anyone woman I'd like." I retort. This friendly argument is getting a little hostile. We stop talking when the tributes dressed as (surprise, surprise) coal miners from District 12 round the city circle and come to a stop in front of President Snow. He gives the speech he says every year to welcome the tributes, the crowd cheers, and all the mentors are brought downstairs with the escorts to meet up with their tributes. I walk down the line trying to find Steph. She's talking to _of all people_, Johanna Mason. I walk over. "Hey, Steph." I smile at her charmingly. "If it isn't _the _Johanna Mason." I grin at her and wink subtly. She rolls her dark brown eyes and folds her arms over her chest.

"You two know each other?" Steph asks, confused. She takes her hair down from the bun it was in. I look at Johanna, silently asking her if we know each other. She raises an eyebrow and shakes his head.

"I'm friends with her mentor, Blight." I lie, smoothly. "It was nice to officially meet you." I stick out my hand, and shake hers. Johanna's hand is soft. I wonder if the rest of her body is as soft. We're interrupted by the arrival of Ariel in her lime green wig to take us upstairs. She walks over to us in her at least five-inch high heeled shoes. "Hello, Ariel." I bite my lip a little and give her a slightly seductive look.

Her sheet white face turns bright red. "H-hi Finnick, hi Stephanie." She answers, flustered. I smirk a little. It's just too easy to make girls like you. If I smile or wink in their general direction, they think I'm in love or something. No wonder Grant has a reputation as a player. As we walk away, I turn around for a moment to wiggle my eyebrows at Johanna. She shakes her head, and Blight laughs. I decide I like Blight. He seems cool and funny. Ariel chats non-stop in the short elevator ride up to the 4th floor, and keeps glancing back at me, as if she's seeking my approval. It's honestly really funny. Stephanie notices this and we both crack up in laughter as we walk out of the elevator.

We all eat dinner together: Effie, Grant, Natalie (who just got back and looks very _unhappy_, to say the least. Not that I blame her.), me, Steph, Nick and their two stylists. They have new stylists, so I have no idea who they are or what their names are. Of course, they know me. I'm the Capitol's hottest new thing. They love me. We chat about mundane things that are appealing to the Capitol, like the current fashion trends and which celebrity is dating that _super hot_ guy. "How do you know all this?" Steph asks me.

"My dad's wife is from the Capitol, and she tries to educate me on these type of things," I explain. It's so dumb, but I obviously don't say that. Ariel seems impressed and makes an unnecessary comment about how I'm more civilized than most people in District 4. _She just called District 4 uncivilized._ _Coming from the person who enjoys watching kids fight to the death on television, _I think, trying very hard to keep my facial expression neutral. It's pretty difficult, and Stephanie shoots me a confused and concerned look. I shake my head at her and mouth, _Why are you looking at me like that? Everything's fine, seriously. Don't worry. _She nods and chews on a fork-full of miniature vegetables served in some type of butter sauce.

I feel like a little kid around everyone here. Nick's the same age, but it seems as if Ariel, Grant, Natalie and Steph treat me like a younger brother or something. I might be overreacting, but it's starting to bother me. I'm a mentor, not a tribute. Ideally, I'd like to be treated like one. _Then again, the Capitol treats me like an adult_, I remind myself, wincing at memories of my last sexual encounter. There's nothing I love and hate more than the people in the Capitol. They adore me and everything I do, but they cause so much pain in my life, both physically and emotionally. I look around and the sullen avox in the corner. Her pale hands folded by her waist, her head down, her long brown hair tied at the nape of her neck. I wonder what she did to become an avox, get her tongue cut out and have to wait on us for the rest of her life. She must hate the Capitol even more than I do. I suddenly feel bad, she has a much harder life here than I do.

After dinner, I decide to talk to Grant. I knock on his door, unsure how to start the conversation. We're friends, and he's the mentor I'm using for _this_ part of my life. It's like the Games never really ended; but this time instead of fighting to keep myself alive, I'm fighting to keep my loved ones alive. It's both easier and harder to do so now. He opens up the door and lets me in, locking it behind me. He scratches on some panel in the wall, and pushes a button. "I turned off the bug. It'll last for half an hour, and for that time nobody'll hear us. Something's on your mind, it's been bothering you for a while. Tell me, whats up?" Grant explains. I'm glad he noticed that I've been preoccupied. It makes all of this easier for me to say. I take a deep breath and start, venting out everything that's been on my mind.

"I may be a victor, but I didn't _win _by any means," I state. Grant says nothing, so I continue. "Nick and Stephanie - one or both of them are going to die. We'll have more deaths on our hands, more guilt. The Capitol loves me, but they love me in all the wrong ways. I'm fifteen years old, that's not even legal for another year! It's sick. They know, no _he_ knows that I'll do anything to keep my family alive, and he's using my love against me. To think he has kids and manages to let these Games happen... that's so sick. What if his children were reaped? He knows the love parents have, and he doesn't care. It's- it's appalling." I vent, letting all my frustration out in one breath. I feel better already. I decide it then - I'm going to find out all the dirt there is on President Snow. The people I sleep with must know the Capitol gossip, and there has to some on President Snow.

Grant muses for a moment before telling me, "Look, Finnick. I'm gonna be honest with you. You may not be an adult, but I'm sure gonna treat you like on. This life, our life, it's very difficult. Nightmares, celebrity gossip and paparazzi, mentoring, and in some cases, prostitution. It sucks, it really does. But we're a lot better off than if we were dead."

"Do you have any loved ones?" I ask him. I've never seen or met any of Grant's family. He knows so much about me, but I realize how little I actually know about Grant. I thought he was a player and flirt, but that's just his Capitol persona.

"My parents. I'm an only child and I don't have a girlfriend or anything. My parents mean the world to me," Grant says, "I feel like I need to protect them, even if technically their job is to protect _me_. I have enough money that they were able to retire, and are pretty happy. I can't imagine what would've happened to them if I died in the arena..." He trails off.

I smile a little at him, unsure what I should possibly say. "You're right," I smile at him. "All of this is worth it, because I'm protecting my family and friends. Thanks. And you don't have a girlfriend? Not Natalie?" I ask, before I walk out. I guess I always just assumed that Grant and Natalie were an item since they both are good friends, and get each other.

Grant laughs and shakes his head. "No, she's my best friend but that's it. Go to bed or something." He walks over to the 'bug' in the wall, and I head into my room. I go to sleep early - around ten. I'm usually up pretty late since I have nothing to do in the morning anyways. Regardless, my nightmares are nothing short of terrifying. There's not just one, but small vignettes. The scariest are Adrienne drowning, getting (for lack of a better word) _raped_ by that man, and Annie being killed in the Arena. I wake up, startled. According to the clock by my bed, it's a few minutes after one thirty in the morning. shudder when I realize that all three of those could easily happen if I don't do a good job at my _jobs_. I groan and pull my blanket over my head, attempting to get a few more precious hours of sleep.

I wake up again at three or four in the morning. I'm fed up by all of this. I don't have to wake up until noon. I'm terrified to go back to sleep, and I don't want to lie awake for six or seven hours either. I stumble into the bathroom in the dark, and go through the medicine cabinet. I find the purple bottle I've seen at least five hundred times before - sleep syrup. I pour the medicine from the bottle into the little plastic cup and gulp it down, thankful for the somewhat pleasant taste. Most medicine tastes horrible. By the time I've managed to put the sleep syrup bottle away and crawl back into my warm bed, the medicine has began to work, and I feel myself drifting off.

I don't wake up until eleven thirty. I feel relaxed, and refreshed. That was the nicest sleep I've had since I was reaped. I throw on sweatpants over my boxers and order some orange juice and toast from the brunette avox. While I wait for whoever makes my breakfast to finish, I go outside to see who's awake. Ariel's sitting on the couch, reading some glossy-covered fashion tabloid, and talking to a very bored-looking Natalie. She smiles brightly when she sees me. She's seems very motherly, or like she'd be a good mother. She's... nurturing, which is probably helpful for being a mentor. "Morning Finnick! You must've slept well." Ariel says hi as well, and they go back to gossiping about what celebrity wore that outfit, and which shoes and all that girl crap nobody really understands why they're interested in.

The avox brings me my food and I thank her warmly, before sitting down and eating my toast. It's really good; I don't think anyone can deny that the food in the Capitol is nothing short of fantastic. I crunch and sip for a while, and look at the clock. It's a little after twelve. My car is picking me up at one to take me to my two appointments today. I pray they're both girls. I read the Capitol newspaper, which is actually informative. It has articles about what's going on with district productions, and important things (unlike that fashion crap). After that, I get dressed and when I get back out, I see that Natalie's done the same. She's applying lipstick, and then calls me over. "Let's get out of here?" She asks me. I _really _don't want to, but who really has a choice about these kinds of things.

We walk to the elevator, and take it to a parking lot I've never seen before. She pulls a cigarette out of her bag, and sets it on fire. "Long route," Natalie explains, before taking a drag as I follow her down a path. She blows out smoke and I try hard not to cough at the smell. "It's terrible that _he_ makes you do this. I know you don't wanna be treated like a kid, but you still are. You shouldn't have to do this. It's- there's no words for how sorry I am for you, Finnick." We spend the rest of the walk to the car and the car ride in silence. It's not awkward, there's just nothing to say. I reluctantly get out of the car and walk to my first client. *

Both of them were girls. There's no words to describe how relived I am. Natalie, on the other hand, doesn't look happy at all. Not that I blame her. Apparently, this is worse for girls. But they age quicker, so they spend less time being _used_.

When we get back to the hotel, I have enough time to take a long shower. I experiment with all the buttons in the shower, until I find my favorites. I use the artificial-ocean scent body wash and some white cream that makes my hair smooth and shiny. I never really cared about this kind of things, but now that I'm in the Capitol, I need to start acting like it.

I decide to visit Blight. He seems cool. When I push 7, I find him laughing and drinking with Haymitch and Grant. They all say hello and call me over to sit next to them in the living room. Grant hands me his cup filled with something clear. "Do ya want some?" He asks me, "It's pretty good."

I take a small sip of the clear liquid, fully aware that this is the peer pressure crap they tell us about in school. The smell makes my eyes water, and it burns my throat. I cough and sputter for a few minutes, and Haymitch guffaws loudly at the sight. Blight smiles a little. "That's _disgusting,_" I scoff, "why the hell would anyone drink that?"

Haymitch rolls his eyes and smirks a little. "Finnick, Finnick, Finnick. You have a _lot _to learn. What would you do without us? Lesson number one. Nobody drinks alcohol for the taste, they drink it cause it gets you _really fucking drunk_. Lesson number two. Stay away from the morphs. Sure, sure they're nice or whatever, but that shit'll fuck you up."

"Don't smoke." Blight tells me, joining in on the conversation. "Natalie's nice and all, and she may like it, but it's _really _addicting. You don't want that to become your life. Also, use condoms. Seriously. You don't wanna get someone pregnant."

"Oh look who it is." Grant mutters under his breath. I turn around and see an angry-looking Johanna Mason stalk into her room, slamming the door behind her. "Well then..." he mutters.

"What is she even doing back here? Training doesn't end for another hour and a half," Blight muses. None of us have the slightest idea. When she comes back out of her room, hair wet and naked body wrapped in a _very_ short towel, I can't help staring. I can tell she's trying to impress _someone_, because she has a ton of eye makeup on, and nobody's lips are naturally that shade of red. Blight's voice brings me out of my thoughts. "Johanna, why are you here? You should be at training."

She rolls her brown eyes at him. "Okay, mom. But seriously, it's so stupid. I'm not gonna _learn_ anything new, especially with that dumb-ass angle you created..." She trails off, and then turns to me. "Holy fuck, Finnick Odair. Can you _please_ stop checking me out? I'd be lying if I said I didn't like male attention, but it's getting a bit annoying." Grant laughs, and I shoot him a look.

"I'll stop checking you out when you stop trying to impress me. Nobody has makeup on when they get out of the shower." I fire back, trying to stay cool.

"Because_ you'd_ know what people look like when they get out of the shower." Johanna tries to counter me, but we both know she's trying to impress me. Or am I just really that cocky? Well I'm not cocky without reason, really.

"I would, actually. I also know what they look like _in _the shower." I retort, sounding cockier than ever. That seems to shut her up and she huffs away, going to get dressed. I laugh as she struts away. She's not fooling anybody. "Blight, whats your angle for her? It seemed to piss her off a lot."

He laughs, and shrugs. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but you seem cool. Whatever. Johanna said she's really good, so we're portraying her as a weakling because with her personality, she's not gonna form any alliances." I laugh a little because its true. Blight looks at me for a moment before asking, "What's with you and her? You have some serious chemistry."

Grant laughs. "Chemistry? Try sexual tension. He's been _drooling _over her since his victory tour." I scowl at him. "What? It's true." I have to try very hard to not throw something at him.

The rest of the day is pretty boring. Ariel spends all of dinner chatting about something dramatic that happened in the Capitol that nobody really cares about. It's really funny but Grant looks sick of it. I look at shy little Nick and unhappy Steph. They have the last day of training tomorrow where they get their scores, their interviews the day after, and then they're gone to fight to the death. At least one of them is not coming home. After dinner, I decide to talk to them in my room. "Alright, I know you don't want to think about this, but one or both of you won't be coming home in a week or two. I don't think I'm supposed to do this, but I want to." I hand them a few pieces of paper. "You can write letters to you family and friends at home, and I'll give it to them if you don't make it back."

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, and for the first time ever I hear Nick speak. His voice is quiet, but unexpectedly deep. "Thank you, Finnick," He says so sincerely, I feel like I've really made an impact in their lives. Stephanie says nothing but her eyes shine with unshed tears, and gives me a long hug. They leave my room to write their letters, and I'm sure I've done the right thing.

Sadly, my good conscience doesn't let me fall asleep easy. I lie awake, tossing and turning the whole night. When I finally fall asleep, I wake up panicking over some nightmare where Nick's family kills me. It's absolutely terrifying. I hate this. I don't want to rely on the sleep medicine for every night, so I don't take any. I just want to forget the nightmares, the terrifying memories. Can't I just escape reality for a few hours in sleep? Apparently not. Oh, well. I just wish there was some _safe_ way to escape it all and just feel okay for a few hours - not alcohol or morphling or cigarettes. Even when I'm happy, I get reminded of everything bad that's in my life. Sure, I'm not starving or freezing or alone with no family and friends, but that doesn't make me happy. I've killed twelve people, I don't have a mother, my family is scared of me, the girl I like doesn't care about me. Well Annie _cares_ about me, but in a friendly, platonic way. She'd never actually kiss me or hold my hand or love me. It's almost funny - I'm considered one of the most attractive men in Panem, and the one girl I have feelings for doesn't care for me. _What are the odds of that?_ Then again, I'm kind of glad Annie treats me like normal, instead of fawning over me like every other girl back at home and in the Capitol. I can be myself around her. It's nice.

The next day is the same as the previous. I lie in bed as late as I can, get in the car and sleep with two women, then come back to the training center apartments. I hang out with Blight, Grant, Haymitch and Natalie for a little, but I don't see Johanna. The tributes have their private sessions with the Gamemakers, and then they come back up. I sit on the couch with Ariel, Grant, Natalie, the stylists, Nick and Steph as we wait for Caesar Flickerman to read off the list of training scores.

It's a pretty normal year. The tributes from 1 and 2 get scores from 7 to 10, Nick gets a 6, Steph gets an 8. Good, she'll be a Career. Steph says that they already formed an alliance. Nobody else really seems that interesting in my opinion, they don't stand out. Besides Johanna Mason. She gets a 6. That only stands out, because if that's her acting weak, she must be _really_ good. A small part of me wants her to win, and I feel terrible about that since I should be rooting for my tributes. Then again, I've never really done what I've supposed to.

* * *

Helping Stephanie and Nick with their interview strategies is actually difficult. I try to help Nick be intelligent and smart, but he's too shy to pull it off. He always trails off in the middle of his sentences as if he thinks I've stopped listening. I contemplate making Stephanie flirty - she has the looks for it, but every time I try flirting with her, she blushes so much her face turns bright red and she laughs so hard she falls off my bed. So I pass her off to Natalie to talk to.

Then, Steph and Nick are taken away to get prepped for their interview, and I don't have appointments, so I play cards with some of the other mentors and take small sips from some of Natalie's fruity drink. They let me drink sometimes, but they won't let me get drunk. I understand why. I'm legally not aloud to drink until I'm sixteen. It's funny cause the Capitol will let me sleep with women and men who are ten, twenty even thirty years older than me, but I can't drink alcohol. Oh, the irony.

The interviews are normal as well. The classically beautiful blonde girl from 1 is flirty, and the boy is funny. The girl from 2 is fierce, and the boy is aggressive. Before I know it, it's Stephanie's turn. Caesar welcomes her to the stage, and kisses her hand. She's wearing a long tight but flowing gown that is silver and sea blue. They curled her hair and it flows over her shoulder and down her back like waves in the ocean. Her stylist must know what she's doing. Caesar and her chat for a little. Stephanie's interview strategy is sweet and mysterious. She only half-answers the questions, so it makes the audience want to know more. It's a fantastic idea, honestly. Nick, however, is forgettable. So are most of the tributes, and then it's Johanna's turn.

She's wearing a tight fitting tree green dress that shows off her fantastic body. Her hair is always up in a bun, but today it's down and I see how long it is. It goes all the way to her lower back, and is straight but curls up a little at the bottom. Caesar greets her and then they chat about the reaping, her strategy and her training score. "So, Johanna. You seem very smart, and got a good training score. What do you think your chances are that you'll win this?"

She smiles sadly, but I see the gleam of a killer in her eyes. I know it, because my eyes have the same. "To be honest Caesar, I really don't think I have _any_ chance of winning."

* * *

**A/N: **Hey, guys. On a bit of a serious note, nobody's been reviewing. It's kind of hard to continue if it looks like nobody's interested.

R&R!


	10. Chapter 10

Caesar looks taken aback by her answer. Nobody in the 66 years of Hunger Games has anyone flat-out said that they don't think they'll win, even if the odds aren't in their favor. The audience is stunned into silence. I look at Blight and raise my eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head at me. He didn't tell her to do that. Now even sponsors will think she's a weakling. Johanna Mason must _really_ thinks this will work. I guess only time will tell. All Caesar manages to say is, "Well, I'm sure that's not true. Anyways, lets give a hand to Johanna Mason!" The crowd manages to clap politely. But holy shit. _What the hell is this girl doing? _I space out for the rest of the interviews, and it's Grant yelling at me that snaps me out of my trance.

"Finnick! You have a phone call. It's somebody named Annie," Grant tells me. My stomach drops, why would she be calling me? I think of all the terrible things that could be happening. The voice on the phone is weak and fragile, not the funny, thoughtful, outspoken Annie I know.

"F-Finn?" She chokes out a sob.

"Annie? Are you okay?" I ask, the panic in my voice obvious.

"I'm okay. But my mom... S-She's..." She trails off, and I can hear the quiet sobs from the other side of the phone.

"Finnick," Adrienne must have taken over the phone. "Annie's okay. It's her mom. She's... well we don't know. We had them over for dinner like we've done every Thursday since as long as we can remember, and Juliette and I were cooking. She was drinking wine, and not a lot too. This was her first glass, and she just choked on something and passed out. We're at the hospital and we don't know..."

"Oh my god... Did anyone else drink that wine?" I ask, worried. If it was the wine, my dad or Juliette or Adrienne could have gotten sick with something too.

"No, just her. It was some new white wine Juliette imported from District 1."

Juliette. Juliette. I feel like she has something to do with this. "I have to go," I tell Adrienne, "keep me updated as soon as you find _anything _out?" Ugh, this is really screwed up. I'm almost positive that Juliette has tried to kill Alana Cresta. But _why_? What could have Alana done? She's she sweetest person I know, and is like a mother to Adrienne and I... That's it. Juliette feels threatened by her. I've thought nothing of my dad and Alana's daily phone calls and close relationship. They're great friends, but that's it. Juliette must not understand that. Did she try to _kill _Alana? I don't know. I don't think I want to know either. I turn to Grant, "Her mother's sick. It's probably just food poisoning, she should be fine". I don't believe the words as I say them, and I'm sure Grant doesn't either. Whatever. I thought I only had to worry about President Snow trying to kill my loved ones. I've never considered Juliette family, but now she's not even a step-relative. She's a threat.

I try not to think of anything back home. I won't be able to go there for a while, and I don't want to preoccupy myself with things I can't control. I'll deal with this once I'm back in District 4. I shake these thoughts out of my head, and go up in the elevator with Grant, Natalie, Nick and Stephanie. Ariel has left. Natalie and I will accompany the tributes to the hovercraft that'll bring them to the arena, and then they're gone. I'll only see them from a television in the Capitol. And I'll never see one or both of them ever again. I guess getting close to them wasn't the greatest idea.

Nick and Stephanie stop by later to hand me their letters. I give them some final advice,"Try to get a good night's sleep you two, you're gonna need it." I tell them. Of course, I can't take my own advice. I think I'm just as scared as Nick and Stephanie are. I end up ordering a mint tea, and watch the Capitol late-night television. Some reporter is talking about the odds being in some of the tributes' favor. They speculate the alliances formed: The tributes from 1 and 2 with Stephanie and the boy from District 6. That show ends, and there's an hour long commercial for some white pill that will make you lose weight. It's probably a scam, but I'm sure the gullible Capitol believe it. They'll believe anything. It's pathetic.

I guess I fall asleep on the couch, and wake up to the sounds of Stephanie and Nick eating and talking over breakfast. Their conversations always manage to trail off after a few sentences. They're nervous. I can practically feel it in the air. I throw on some clean clothes and splash water on my face to wake myself up. Then, we walk them down a tunnel to the hovercraft that will take them to the arena. I squeeze Stephanie's hand, trying to be supportive. "You can do this, okay. The odds are in your favor. Seriously. The Capitol thinks you have a good shot, and so do I. Be careful."

"Thank you, Finnick. For everything." She says, and then walks away. Gone. Steph stops after a few steps, and runs back, confusing the peacekeepers. She jumps on me and kisses me. I'm so stunned I don't know how to react. "Sorry. I've really wanted to do that." She says, before walking to her probable death. One of the peacekeepers shoots me a look. I shrug. _What the hell was that?_ And why did I like that? _Get a grip, Odair,_ I tell myself. Why does every girl feel the need to kiss me now? I really don't mind, but _why_? It's weird.

Natalie meets up with me, and we go in a car to a tall building in the Capitol. It might be one of the tallest, but I'm not sure. We take an elevator to the top floor, and there's a _huge_ room. There's windows on the ceilings, called skylights. Three of the walls are covered with televisions, and the other has 12 computers. Phones and buffets line the walls, and there's tables and couches everywhere. A name comes to mind. This is the Mentor's Lounge. "Let me show you around?" Natalie asks. She introduces me to all of the other mentors, but only a few are memorable. The two mentors from District 2 are very memorable – Enobaria, who won the year before me by ripping her opponent's throat and Brutus, the classic Career. Beetee and Wiress, who are nicknames Nuts and Volts, seem way too kind to have won the brutal ways everyone claims they did. I know Blight, and Haymitch is with his friend and drinking buddy Chaff.

There's polite conversation and hugs. I'm the awkward one here. Everyone knows each other, and I don't. That's just great. I guess I'll have to meet people. "One, Two, Five, Six and Eight. Don't trust them," Natalie tells me quietly, "One can be okay, I'll tell you when." It's etched into the back of my head. Don't trust them. But _why_? Most people never meet anyone from another district in their lives. Districts have no alliances, they haven't in sixty-six years. Maybe it's for a good reason, I don't really know.

Everyone quiets down and takes a seat as the anthem and seal of Panem show up on the previously black screens, and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith come on the screen. I sit at a table with Blight, Natalie, Haymitch and Chaff. I've talked to them and they seem cool. Chaff is loud and funny and even though his jokes usually suck, he balances out Haymitch's negative, sarcastic personality. They're good for each other. Caesar and Claudius go over the tributes, their training scores, their odds, and a short exchange from each of their interviews. Of course, they show that one clip with Johanna saying how she has no chance of winning. Ugh. I can't wait for the Games to start. I'm not _excited _for them like most people in the Capitol are, and I don't dread them like I did when I was in the arena or watching at home. I just want them to happen already, I want to know who wins, and just get them over with so we can all go home. With or without Stephanie or Nick or Johanna or anyone else that could win. I think seeing these Games is even worse as a mentor, because I'll have to go home and see the heartbroken families. That, for me is the worst part.

They chatter from a few minutes, a countdown on the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen counting down the minutes and seconds left. 5:50, 5:49, 5:48. It's too suspenseful. I hear the cheers of Capitol citizens from the streets below. They're _excited. _They enjoy these Games, this torture, and I hear it first hand. My stomach hurts. I go to the bathroom. I use seven different hand lotions and put a creme in my hair. Three minutes. I take a large gulp of Stephanie's rum and coke. She shoots me a dirty look. Two minutes. Haymitch finishes off his bottle, and drops it on the ground. An attendant has to come and clean it up. This must be terrible if he has to get drunk before the Games even start. Thirty seconds. By now, the tributes have risen up in their plates. We get a full look at the arena. It looks like barren flatlands. I can tell it's fairly hot, and there seems to be no edible food or protection in the green-brown grass. It looks _dead_. I notice the cornucopia - it's an ugly shade of brown, and I think it's made out of wood. There's a small stream behind it, and a hill that could lead to protection. I'm not worried about Stephanie. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The gong goes off, and the Games have officially begun. I hear a cheer erupt from in the streets below, but I don't respond. I'm focused on the screen in front of me. I keep my eyes on Stephanie. The blonde girl from District 1 calls her over as she impales the girl from 8 with a sword. The boy from 2 snaps the neck of the boy from 12. Stephanie grabs a long spear, and throws it for distance. She gets the boy from nine in between the back of his neck and his shoulder blades, killing him instantly. I see Johanna sneak past everyone, unseen. She grabs a small backpack and an axe and heads for the hill. She adjusts it in her hands so she's holding it wrong. and it makes it look like she has no idea what she's doing. It's pretty impressive, really. I see Blight nod in approval out of the corner of my eye.

The camera pans back to the cornucopia. I see that the girls from 11 and 12 are laying face down, blood pooling around them. They're presumably dead too. The boy from 11 tries shooting an arrow at the girl from 5. He misses by a little and it hits her in the back of her thigh and she falls to the ground. The Career girl from 2 finishes off the girl on the ground while the boy from 1 stabs the boy from 11 from behind. Haymitch's voice pulls me out of the action. "Well, we're out. Another two dead. Let's get out of here?" he says to Chaff. They both stand up and leave. Their tributes have died in the first five minutes of the Games. I refocus my attention on the Games. Most of the tributes have scattered, except for the twelve-year-old girl from 3. She's hidden in the back of the cornucopia. She's quick to die when Stephanie sees her, showing no compassion for the small child.

The career pack has collected the majority of things from the cornucopia, stocked up on supplies, food and weapons, and left. "If they were smart, they would've burned up the rest of the stash so nobody else could get it." Blight says. I nod in agreement. That _would _be the smart thing to do. But I'm thankful they didn't. The camera shows a flash of all the tributes. Johanna's climbed a tree and is hanging out on a high branch, concealed by the trees. While it would be a huge inconvenience for her to get down, she's safe. Nick is terrified, trembling in a bush. The mass-murder must have scared him into a mental breakdown of some sort. I can tell he's not going to last long. No sponsor would want to help him right now, and he has no food, water or weapons.

Not much happens the rest of the day, no more deaths. At night, the boy from 10 is dumb enough to light a fire, and the Careers come over and kill him. The sun sets in the arena, and the faces of the fallen are projected into the night sky: The girl from 3, the girl from 5, the girl from 8, the boy from 9, the boy from 10 and all four tributes from 11 and 12. That makes nine dead in the first day. The arena's night is only four o'clock here, their time is three hours later than the Capitol's time.

Still, Natalie calls me over. She whispers in my ear so I can only hear her, "Your car is downstairs. Apparently you have two clients today. We're – that meaning most of the mentors – are all going out to dinner at seven, so you have enough time to clean up and go out with us if you want." She raises her voice to a normal tone, and tells me. "You go back to the apartments and take a nap or something. I'll be here. You look exhausted."

"Sounds good," I tell Natalie, even faking a yawn. "See you later. Bye Blight!" I walk downstairs, and into the discreet black car, that looks just like every other car in the Capitol. The driver hums along to song on the radio I've never heard. Capitol music is weird, and I'm not sure why anyone likes it. He drops me off at my first client/appointment/date/whatever the hell it's called. Luckily, she's a girl.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I ask the hot pink colored naked woman in the bed. The blanket rises and falls on her bare chest. She nods a little, and I ask her, "is it possible to poison someone with wine?"

She laughs, and even for such a strange looking person, it's a nice sounding laugh. It's very pretty. She bites her lip in thought and then answers in her strange Capitol accent, "Yeah, people do it _all _the time. It's in all those mystery movies on channel thirty-six that they show on Tuesday nights. But I've only heard one case of it happening in real life. It's a secret though, so you're going to need to keep it quiet. Apparently when President Snow was rising to power – bless his heart that poor sick man. Well, he used it to take out his enemies. I don't know. Ask around if you want the full story."

I shrug, and move on to my next person. If it's so popular in the Capitol as a way to kill, no wonder Juliette used it on Alana. I wonder how she is, and how Annie is doing. But I can't stop thinking about what she said. I wonder _how_ President Snow came to power. Maybe, I'll ask around. I sleep with some of the most rich and powerful people in Panem. Surely, they'll have to know something about it. I want to know every dirty detail about that terrible man.

My second person is a man. _Great._ Apparently men are rarer to have than women, which is good. But I don't like it, at all. I like girls and boobs and smooth skin, not guys and dicks and muscles. _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so so so so much._ I chant in my head. I'm not sure who I'm chanting that to. It doesn't really matter though.

I'm too worn out after my day (both mentally and physically) to go out, so I just stay in the apartments. I clean up a bit, and chill out on the couch, and watch some of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith's commentary. When that ends at six, I go to channel thirty-six and watch the Saturday night shows. There's a crappy movie about a high school girl who gets pregnant, another about this girl who falls in love but looses her memory. They're both really bad. After that, Natalie comes home and sits with me. She pushes a button on the remote control, and changes it to some television show.

"This is my favorite." She tells me, sounding excited. It's a parody show with short skits making fun of celebrities and other things. It seems funny, but I don't get most of the jokes Natalie is laughing about. Mostly because I don't know about the things that they reference. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to read those Capitol magazines every once in a while. I just try to sit back and relax, and watch the show. It's not that bad. They have a singer who plays a guitar sing a few songs too. I decide I like this show.

"What's it called?" I ask Natalie. She doesn't at answer at first, she's cracking up at one of the actors doing some game-show type thing. I don't see whats so funny, but she clearly does. Natalie finally answers me when the show goes to a commercial break.

"Saturday Night Live. It's been going in since Pre-Panem. A lot of things from now come from before Panem, before the dark days. It's weird to think about, but before sixty-six years ago, people lived here without these Games. I wonder why they rebelled in the first time. Maybe I'll ask Mags. But maybe three or four hundred years before that, people lived in _America. _And they went to school and watched television just like we do. I wish I knew what they did wrong."

I shrug. I've never really thought about that. But Mags was a toddler before the rebellion, so she might remember something. In school, we only learned about the last sixty-six years. The three presidents we've had, the Games, what all the districts do, and of course, the Dark Days. But it's probably biased. We never learned what was so bad that made the people rebel, or what screwed-up person would create a competition where teenagers kill each other. They would tell us if the districts were in the wrong. They haven't, so that must mean that the Capitol has done some terrible things _before_ the Dark Days. They're hiding the truth. But _why_?

The show ends, and I go to my room so I can go to bed. I hear Grant come in a little later, but I don't say hi. I lay in bed, feeling like I've heard too much. I shouldn't be thinking like this – or maybe I _should_, and the Capitol doesn't want me to. There I go again. I lay in bed, trying to get my head to shut up. It's difficult. There's a thousand different thoughts racing through my mind. With everything I have to deal with, and all my problems, it's a miracle I get even an hour of sleep. The only good thing is that by the time I actually manage to fall asleep, I'm so exhausted I don't have nightmares at all. If I do, I don't remember them which is just as good in my opinion.

Natalie wakes me up around nine thirty by throwing a pillow in my face. I groan, and turn over. I hate the terrible, warped memories I see at night, but I'm too tired to get up. She doesn't really care though. "Get up. Get up, get up get up." She nags me. I groan and sit up, yawning. Natalie crosses her arms over her chest and nods thoughtfully in approval. "Good. Now get some clothes on, we're leaving in fifteen minutes. There will be food in the lounge, if you decide you want." She closes the door behind her as she walks out, and I contemplate turning off the lights and going back to bed. But Natalie won the Hunger Games once, and I'm pretty sure she'd kill me if I went back to bed.

Nothing new happened over night in the arena. Caesar Flickerman replays the deaths of everybody that died, and Claudius Templesmith goes over the odds of each remaining tributes. Out of the sixteen remaining tributes, Stephanie has the third highest odds, which is really good. Johanna has the tenth highest odds. I look over at Blight, who seems to be pleased with these results. I guess this is a part of his and Johanna's weakling strategy. Personally, I'm starting to wonder if in reality she's not acting.

The rest of the day goes by with no new deaths until three o' clock in the afternoon, or six by arena time. The Career pack runs into the male tribute from 5, and they make quick work of him. Maybe an hour later, the girl from 9 dies from some plant she decides to eat. Those are the only two deaths of the day. The Capitol isn't going to be that impressed - there was no drama or suspense. This is a television show, and they demand to be entertained.

After that, I have two more appointments. They're girls too, thankfully. As much as I dislike this (no, I _hate_ it), it's becoming much more tolerable. Most of the women here like the same things, and practice makes perfect. I return to the apartment at eight or eight thirty in the evening. Natalie and Grant are _really_ drunk and laughing. They don't hear me come in, so I pick at the untouched appetizers on the dining room table. I hear a scream and I jump to my feet. I look around, it was Natalie being _tickled. _Grant is lying on top of her on the couch, and they're making out. _Oh_. _Well then._ I've been suspecting that they have had a thing for a while. I quietly go into my room, not wanting to be near that. There's already _way _too much sex in my life. I think I'm probably the only teenage boy in the whole world who doesn't want sex. Then again, most fifteen year olds are too busy trying to stay alive and not get reaped, and don't have time for that. I have too much time on my hands.

I change into a tee-shirt and sweatpants, and before I can stop myself, I'm tiptoeing to the elevator and pushing 7. I really just need to hang out with a friend, someone close to my age who won't judge my body count or be scared of me. I think Blight's the person for that. Maybe I'll see Johanna too, which would be nice. Even though she'd probably chuck a plate at my head. I don't know what her problem is, but it doesn't, matter. _I'm not here for Johanna, I'm not here for Johanna._ Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll believe it.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like that? I really appreciate all the fantastic feedback. Keep it coming!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Sorry it's been a while since I updated, I was away for the holidays, and didn't have internet. :/

* * *

I go upstairs in the elevator, and quietly step out of the elevator. I hear casual conversation floating in from the living room. Since I don't think I'm interrupting anything, I walk into the living room and see him chatting with Cecelia. I don't know much about her, except for the fact she's from District 8 and that she won the 51st Hunger Games, the year after Haymitch. I think she had a kid a year or two ago. I don't know though. I make my presence known and they both seem pleasantly surprised to see me. Cecelia smiles sweetly at me and pats the seat of the chair next to her, inviting me to sit down. "Hello, Finnick." She pauses for a moment, hesitating before she says whatever she's going to say. I can tell she's the kind of person who always thinks carefully before she speaks. Adri is just like that. "How do you find mentoring to be?"

I shrug. "It's alright, I guess. It's a new perspective. I've seen the Games as a kid scared to be reaped but glad I'm not in it, and I've seen them while in the arena. Now I'm gonna see them as someone who can get _in _the arena. There's a lot that we can do, but I can tell it's taxing work. We get blame if the tributes don't make it home, and no district could possibly win every year." That's my honest opinion.

Blight laughs, and shakes his head. "Finnick's off his game because he has an insane crush on my tribute. She claims to hate him, but I see the way she looks at him." I throw a pillow at his head, but he's right. That's _exactly_ what's going on, and I came here to ask him about Jo.

"Do you think she'll win? My tribute Stephanie is good, but two districts _never_ win consecutive years. It just doesn't work like that. Also, Johanna's _really _hot." I admit, and frown as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Blight laughs at me, and Cecelia smiles at me, shaking her head.

"Maybe. I mean it really depends. I hope she does. I really hope she's as good as she claims she is. I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Blight says. He's right. We chat for a while about other things, and then we all go back to our floors to go to bed, since it's getting pretty late out. I lie in bed for a while, not wanting to fall asleep, but needing the sleep. Eventually my fatigue wins out over my fear of those terrible nightmares. Of course, the nightmares come. They pretty much always do. I dream of Juliette killing off my dad, Adrienne, Annie and then Johanna. The dream is more than terrifying, there's really no words to describe how scary it was. I lie, shaking under the blankets. It's four in the morning, but there's no way I'll be able to go back to sleep. I throw on a pair of sneakers and decide to go for a run.

I quietly tiptoe out of my room and down the stairs, not wanting to risk waking up Grant or Natalie with the _ding_ of the elevator. I strap on a small watch-like invention from District 3 that plays music, and put in the earplugs. I play with the radio, until I find a good station. I listen to one where all the singers sing about something I can't really understand over the guitar and drums and the mumbled voices. I run out of the lobby, and just keep running. I'm not sure where I'm going, but my feet keep moving. An hour or so later, I have to stop to catch my breath. It's still dark out, but the Capitol street lights keep the streets well lit. The sky is purple now, not black. The sun should be up in an hour or so.

I decide now's a good time to turn around. It takes a little bit longer, but I manage to find my way back to the training center apartments. Nobody is awake, and the usually loud and packed streets are silent and empty. It feels eery. I tell myself I'm being paranoid, and let myself back into the apartment. The run cleared my head a bit, and I feel better. But while the only thing I have to fear is nightmares when I sleep, the tributes have to deal with the fact they might be killed in their sleep by the Gamemakers, other tributes, or exposure from the elements. I really should stop complaining, it's selfish.

I manage to get showered and changed into clean clothes in less than twenty minutes. I sit at the dining room table, eating a bowl of pink and blue sugary cereal with chocolate milk. I feel like a little kid eating it, but it's really good. Natalie walks in a few minutes later, wearing a pair of sweatpants that are hanging off her hips (I think they belong to Grant) and a bra, no shirt. We're all naked around each other, but none of us really care. She rubs her eyes, and nurses a cup of coffee. She looks almost... hung over. "Had fun last night?" I tease her jokingly. Her cheeks turn bright pink, and she ignores me.

"Shut up." Natalie mumbles, eating a few bites of banana. "But if you _really_ want to know, yes, I did." She finishes eating her food and sipping her coffee and goes to get dressed. She's probably the only woman ever who can get ready in less than ten minutes. In the time it takes me to drink my coffee – no milk, just two sugar cubes – she's already gotten dressed to Capitol standards and done too much makeup for my taste, but what's considered minimal here. The avox collects our plates, and the two of us get in the car to go to the Mentor's lounge.

There have been no new deaths over night. The careers are just waking up, as the sun is rising over the arena. Today marks day two. Nine died yesterday, that leaves twelve more to inevitably die plus the one winner. The day is pretty slow. I chat with Cecelia and Natalie and Blight for most of the time. After lunch, The girl from District 6 runs into the boy from 8, and they stare at each other for a little, before deciding to fight. Neither of them have weapons, so it's messy. They punch and slap and scratch each other. When the boy from 8 gets on top of the girl from 6, he tries to suffocate her, but she knees him between his legs, rolls him over, and after a few awkward minutes, manages to break his neck. She stands up, wipes her hands on her pants, and walks away. The canon blasts a few seconds later. "I'm out." Cecelia stands up, sighing. She kisses Blight and Natalie on the cheek, and gives me a hug. "See you three next year. Or maybe on the Victory Tour. Call me sometime, we have phones in our homes but nobody ever uses them."

I promise her the occasional phone call, and she leaves. There's 13 tributes left, which means twelve more will have to die. For some reason, this year, it affects me more than usual. I see people from the other victors, and I realize how much everyone else feels the pain. Coming from a mostly Career district, we have a lot of victors and the pain much be only a fraction compared to that in the outer districts. There have been only two victors from District 12, and only one is living: Haymitch. I would probably drink as much as him if I had been through everything he has. I don't know _half_ of it, I saw his games, how he almost lost his digestive system, and how weeks after coming home, his mother, brother and girlfriend were all publicly executed. And now he's alone. _Oh._

Haymitch was pretty handsome when he was younger; he probably was offered the same fate as I and some of the other mentors. He must have declined the President's offer. Bad move on his part. I understand completely why he would say no to _prostitution_ after being in a fight to the death, especially when it's the Quarter Quell. Yet still, his family suffered. I shake my head. I don't know hist story, or anything. I'm just jumping to conclusions, and that's not fair of me. I turn my attention to the large television screen, since it's ten o'clock sharp and the live broadcast is about to begin. Everyone in school is sitting in the yard on those foldable plastic chairs in front of the screen broadcasted on the back of the school wall. The whole world is watching, that's a fact.

It's seven in the morning, Arena time. The sun is up, and with that are most of the tributes. They show a girl (maybe the one from 10?) in a sleeping bag. She's just waking up, and looks unhealthy. Her face is pale, and it looks like she's sweating. I wonder if she's been poisoned, or if she's just dehydrated. Whatever. I make myself not care – she's not my tribute, so her health isn't my responsibility. They cut her off, and show Johanna. She's tying her long hair up in a bun, and putting her pack on. She's going somewhere. As she walks, I can tell she's limping. It's _fake._ "You see that, right?" I ask Blight. He nods, his eyes not leaving the screen. She walks a few feet, and turns a corner. She runs straight into the Career pack. "Shit." I curse under my breath. This _will_ be bloody. Everyone can tell – the hushed anticipation of the Capitol viewers, the assumed terror in the districts, and the dead silence in the mentor's lounge. You could hear a pin drop. Natalie rubs her temples. I curse under my breath. The Careers huddle in, and discuss what to do. I've never seen them have a plan, besides mindlessly killing.

**Girl from 2:** Look, it's _Johanna_. Poor thing, is she _hurt_?  
**Boy from 1: **Who knows? I don't care. This is gonna suck, she can't do shit. I like when they're a challenge.

**Steph: **What are we gonna do? For all you know, she could be of some use.

**Boy from 2: **I doubt she's really as weak as she says she is.

**Girl from 1: **Well there's only one way to find out.

They break off, and walk towards a trembling Johanna. She bites her lip and stutters. "P-please don't hurt me." _Johanna doesn't stutter._

The girl from 1 laughs at her. "I'll make you a deal, since I'm feeling _generous_ today. We'll let you live if you can be of use to us." She takes an axe from the boy from 2, and extends her arm towards Johanna. She drops it my her feet, and Johanna jumps. "Show us what you can do. You're from District 7, I doubt you're _so _pathetic that you can't use an axe." Johanna doesn't move. "Go on, pick it up."

"I-I can't." Johanna mutters under her breath. She bends over to pick the axe up from the ground, and she can't. "It's too heavy."

The girl from 1 scoffs, and turns back towards her allies. "She's no use. Steph, you were wrong. I wanna kill her. Go back to camp and get me the kni-" She's cut off by Johanna picking up the axe and hurling it at her back. She makes a choking noise and falls to the ground. The Careers are all stunned, and Johanna uses that to her advantage. She takes the axe out, and swiftly beheads the boy from 2. Stephanie and the girl from 2 manage to run off. The boy from 1 tries to shoot an arrow, but his hands are trembling and he misses. Johanna buries the axe in his chest. _So much for him liking a challenge._

"What the fuck...?" Natalie mutters. Grant just smirks. Damn. I'm slightly relieved that she's so good. The three canons go off a few moments later. Johanna cleans off her axe on the hem of the girl from 2's shirt, and walks away, whistling. I stare, slack-jawed. I hate myself for it, but I'm rooting for Johanna Mason, not Stephanie _or_ Nick. Whoops. I'm a terrible mentor. Oh well. Johanna kills the girl from 10 who looked unwell earlier. She wouldn't have lasted long anyways. I have to leave for three more appointments. Two girls, one guy. _I hate them all, I hate them all, I hate them all. _Hate isn't strong enough to describe how I feel about them.

When I get cleaned up and get back to the Mentor's Lounge around four thirty, Johanna's taken out both tributes from 6. Natalie tells me that the girl from 2 killed Nick, and Stephanie stood by, neither helping nor saving him. I don't know how I feel about that. At the end of the day, we see the body count: Both tributes from 1 and 6, the boy from 2, Nick, and the girl from 10. Johanna Mason's body count is 6. There's only 7 tributes left – the Careers who are left (the girl from 2 and Steph), the boys from 3 and 5, Johanna and her district partner, and the girl from District 9. At this rate, the games will be over in one or two days. In other news, I've slept with 16 people, only one of them was somebody who I actually care about. I'm not sure if I like sex anymore. I mean, _who doesn't? _But it's lost it's meaningfulness. It's just something that I do because I have to. I think that in itself is sad. I hear someone sit down next to me and that takes me out of my thoughts. "Hey Finnick." Enobaria says to me, as if we're good friends. Which we're not.

"Hey, Enobaria." I greet her in the same way. I move over a little so she can sit down. To be honest, Enobaria terrifies me. I saw her Games, and even though every single person in this room (myself included) is capable of murder, and has killed one, two, three, twelve kids, Enobaria's method was _terrifying._ She ripped open her opponent's neck with her bare teeth. Sitting next to someone who can do that, however hypocritical it may sound, makes me uncomfortable. I try to make it unnoticeable. I can't help how attractive she is. For lack of a better word – she's _hot_. I think she notices me staring, and I avert my eyes and change the topic. "Our girls are doing pretty well."

She smiles a little, but rolls her eyes. "Of course they are. Back home, we won't give them a burial if they don't make it to the final 8." I'm taken aback. I knew that District 2 was crazy about the Hunger Games, since they're pretty close to the Capitol, and win the most out of any district. That seems a bit harsh, even by their standards.

"Isn't that a bit rough?" I ask her. "Some people aren't natural born killers, and just don't do well."

She laughs, and shake her head. "Of course not. It motivates them. I put it in place, so we get strong volunteers when the twelve year-olds are picked, and when nobody volunteers for somebody, they'll be fine. It's _honorable_. Everyone wants to be respected, to remembered. But unless they can _make_ them selves memorable, they won't be." I have to bite my tongue. That's just _terrible._ Some people are good natured, moral people, and won't kill. Having them trained is a good idea, so they can defend, but only kill if they choose to. Turning _kids _into killing machines is just wrong. And to think Enobaria is behind it. I try to hide my disgust.

Natalie and some of the other mentors go out to dinner. I'm invited to go with them, but I decline. I just want to lay down. On top of that, they all know each other already, and I don't. Enobaria seems to _really_ want me to go, but I don't change my mind. She creeps my out. Grant and I watch television and eat pizza. It's oily bread with tomatoes and cheese melted on top. It's weird, but it's delicious. He throws back drinks and I try to take my mind off life. It must be harder for Grant. All he's been doing is sleeping around. The press is eating it up. They're sick enough to think he's a player. I've noticed the way he looks at Natalie. "Do you like her?" I ask Grant. "Natalie, that is."

He's tipsy, I can tell. Liquor loosens the tongue. He laughs a little. "_Do you liiiike her?_" He mocks me. "We're not in grade school anymore, Finn. But yeah. I do. A lot. And she gets me – she gets what I do, and doesn't just me or worry about me cheating on her because I'm fucking _everyone. _That's why victors usually marry other victors. They understand the nightmares, even _years _after. They understand the fucking and don't think you're a hoe for it. They understand the reluctance to have kids, because _what if they were reaped? _They get it all. And don't judge it."

I smile sadly at Grant's philosophical speech. He's one hundred percent right. I don't know who I want to marry, _if_ I want to marry. The only victor my age is Enobaria. I shake my head. I'm fifteen years old, there's plenty of time for that stuff later. I don't think I'm emotionally capable of being in a relationship with anybody right now, victor or not. I wouldn't mind Johanna though. She's funny, down to earth, sarcastic but truthful. Regardless of what happens, I want her to be there as a friend. I realize that I _liiike _her. Jesus. I groan a little. I _so _don't want to deal with that right now. Girls. I hate girls almost as much as I hate boys. Boys are the worst. Well, _men._ The Capitol men. The creepy, slimy ones that want me, as well as the terribly evil Head Gamemaker (it's never been a girl) and President Snow.

We watch some dumb show, and I can tell it's supposed to be funny because Grant's laughing hysterically, but I just don't find it humorous. Probably because most of the show makes jokes about Capitol humor. I've never seen the appeal in that. But Grant's been here so long, I guess it rubs off eventually. Back home, we don't even have television shows for entertainment. The only thing we watch are educational movies in school and mandatory viewing at home. Juliette sometimes watches celebrity news, but I'm positive nobody else does. Why would they anyways? Before I can let my better judgement and good conscience stop me, I reach for Grant's bottle.

He sits up, and shakes his head. "Don't drink straight liquor. You're fifteen years old, you have zero tolerance." He stands up and walks to the bar counter. I follow him. "We're starting small, okay? Drinking underage is bad, but you're for lack of a better word, a legal whore, so I don't think the law concerns you." He opens a can of soda, and pours it in a glass. He takes out a small cup (called a shot glass, I think) and fills it up twice. He puts a red straw in it, stirs and hands it to me. "That's a rum and Coke. Drink it slowly."

I nod, and we sit back down. Grant flips through the channels on the television, and I slowly sip the drink. It burns a little when it goes down my throat. I ignore the taste, and let the effects come over me. It takes a little while to kick in, but I feel lighter, and more relaxed. The world seems a little bit fuzzier around the edges, and everything seems to be in slow motion. I like it. I drink some more. Everything feels weird, as if my body is disconnected from my mind. After two more drinks, I can't walk straight and my speech is slurred. I'm saying things I shouldn't say, to Grant. I mention a few things I've done with Cara, the mayor's daughter and what I did with Lily (but he claims he knew that already). I also say what I _sooo_ want to do with Johanna, and how I think I love Annie, but it might just be the kind of love you feel for a sibling and how the whole thing is way too confusing, especially with the lack of sleep due to nightmares and the fact in my spare time I sit there while kids die, and I help. _Oh, _and also I'm a fucking male prostitute at fifteen years old.

By the time we get home, it'll be the beginning of October. My birthday's in February – the victory tour is in April. The next time I'm in the Capitol, I'll be legal, so I'll drink and party and rich Capitol women will take me out on dates in the public eye. I'll have to drink and laugh and pretend I'm having a good time, instead of just fucking and leaving. But I'm sure they'll be plenty of that as well. I'm in the middle of my drunken rant when I hear the elevator _ding _open. Natalie's back from dinner. I hear Grant curse under his breath. Natalie unzips her jacket, unpins her hair and shakes it out, kicks her shoes into a corner, and sits down on the couch next to me. "Hey." She sighs, leaning back. "Enobaria got into a fight with some waiter about something, nobody even knows. She's _ridiculous._ Yet for some reason, all of the Capitol loves her."

I nod in agreement. I _really_ don't like Enobaria. "They think she's attractive, her Games were gory and for the Capitol, that equals entertainment. She altered her teeth so they were pointed I think. Eh. I don't see the appeal. Yeah she's hot, I'm not gonna lie. But she's a psycho bitch. And how would _anyone _make out with her with those teeth? I wouldn't. She's probably rip open my lip or something."

Natalie furrows her brow, and shakes her head. "Finnick Odair, are you _drunk_?" I don't say anything and neither does Grant. She turns to him, and shoots him a death look. "Holy shit, you're fucking drunk! What the hell, Grant? What were you thinking, letting him drink? You're his _mentor, _you need to make smart decisions. He's only fifteen years old – that's not even legal, and even if it was, it's still stupid. Drinking won't solve any of his problems."

"Smoking won't solve any problems either." Grant retorts, and then sighs, leaning back. It's like they've completely forgotten that I'm in the room with them. "Look, Finnick wanted to try, so I let him. Nat, he's a _prostitute._That's illegal, obviously in the districts, and in the Capitol too. If the _president _is okay with us being whores, I doubt he cares if we drink or smoke. We're not role models or celebrities, we're _murderers_, and that's the plain truth. Does anyone look up to Mags Haymitch? Do they want to be _just like him_ when they grow up? People don't want to be us, they're scared into respect. They don't want us, they just want to fuck us so they can brag about it. We're untouchable, and the Capitol (and sometimes the districts) like the idea that they can have a piece of us, even if it's just for an hour or two."

That stuns Natalie into silence. "Fair enough," is all she says in response. "So, what are you drinking?"

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like that? Make sure to review, it keeps me going!( :


	12. Chapter 12

I decide being drunk is _nice_. I probably shouldn't make it a habit though (I like Haymitch, but who wants to end up like him?). I feel a lot better; my pain is numbed and my problems seem unimportant at the moment. Natalie is telling a funny story, but I only catch half of it. "-and then she slapped him in the face, but the press saw it and thought they were breaking up." I laugh along with Grant, having no idea whats so funny in the first place.

I wake up on the couch. I have no idea when I passed out, but Grant's on the floor, snoring. Natalie's dress is on the floor by her room, so she probably made it to bed. I yawn and sit up. I notice a throbbing pain in my left temple. I'm not sure if it's a headache, or I hit my head really hard. It easily could be either. Natalie walks out of her room, and slams the door behind her, by accident. I wince. _Yep, that's a headache. _I notice that she's just in a bra and underwear. I don't know if she's aware of this, so I pretend not to.

I go into my room and turn on the shower. I sit under the hot water, but I don't put the light on; it's too bright. I clean myself off and slowly get dressed. My stomach seems upset, so I skip breakfast. Natalie make our way to the Mentor's Lounge. Neither of us bother to wake up Grant, since he has nothing to do today.

Stephanie puts on some makeup in the short car ride, and I sip on water from one of the small bottles in the mini fridge. The driver tries to make conversation with me, but I just groan. I feel like shit. No wonder Haymitch is so grumpy all the time. I don't want to talk to anyone, or communicate at all. I just want to sleep and be left alone.

Stephanie's smart, and has sunglasses to put on. I'm not and I don't. The florescent lights burn my eyes like I've been staring into a lightbulb. Enobaria sits down next to me as soon as we get in the lounge. "Someone drank a bit too much last night." She teases me. "Aren't you a bit too young for that?"

I'm too hung over to deal with her, so all I say is, "Aren't you a bit old to be flirting with a fifteen year-old?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Enobaria rolls her eyes, but doesn't deny that she was trying to flirt with me. We both know she was, so there's no real point in denying it. Thankfully, the other mentor from her district calls her over, so she has to leave me alone. Nothing happened overnight in regards to tributes thankfully. Johanna _and _Stephanie are still okay, for now.

Caesar goes over the alliances formed – the Careers that are left (the girl from 2 and Steph) are the only one. Everyone else is solo. They show clips of what all the tributes are currently doing. Stephanie and her ally are eating some type of animal meat off the bone, and drinking water. They clearly don't need help from me. The boy from 3 looks dehydrated, the boy from 5 is sleeping in a few bushes, badly camouflaged. Johanna's district partner looks pretty ill as well. The girl from 9 is sitting in a tree. Johanna is walking around, axe in hand. She's ready to kill today. The games should be over, at the most, in three or four days.

The Careers get a move on, and they run into Johanna's district partner. They kill him quickly by a spear thrown to his chest. Blight curses quietly. Johanna sees the boy from 5 sleeping, but he wakes up and is able to out-run her easily. She may be strong and smart, but she's only five feet tall and she has _very _short legs, especially when compared to the ridiculously tall tribute fro m 5. If she were here right now, I'd make fun of her endlessly for that. She'd probably scowl at me and throw something hard at my face. The idea makes me smile a little.

I watch the live feed, my eyes glued to the screen. I don't move for a few hours, except to get food and drink from the attendants in the room. I'm glad that there are no more deaths, but at the same time, the Capitol will be getting impatient. They need their blood. When I have to go to be fucked by some random women (_pleasenoguys, pleasenoguys_), I ask that Enobaria fills me in on everything that happens. She seems very enthusiastic to do so, and I think its kind of funny.

They've decided to increase the number of 'clients' I have a day to three or four now. My first three are women. They're all married with kids. I don't know what bothers me more: the fact that they're cheating on their husbands with a fifteen year old, or that we're fucking while there's a family portrait on the nightstand. Whatever. None of this is my buisness, anyways. Still, it makes me feel sick. Or maybe that's the remnants of my hangover.

The last is the worst. My fourth is a man. In the Capitol, only men and women actually get married and have kids, but it's generally accepted to sleep with people of the same sex just for pleasure. I don't understand the way things work around here. The only thing that gets me through these types of things, is removing myself from the action. _This isn't Finn, _I remind myself, _this is the Capitol version of Finnick Odair. It's not who I am, it's what they want me to be. Your family is okay, so this is it up for them, its the least you could do._

I hate the Capitol.

Enobaria invites Blight, Natalie, and I over to play cards and just hang out. I decide to go even though I don't particularly like her. It couldn't hurt to be social. Besides, Blight seems to be friends with her or at least friendly towards her.

The District 2 apartment has an identical layout to all of the other apartments, but it's decorated differently. The fourth floor is mostly shades of blues and greens with straw chairs and hammocks on the balcony. It feels like a beach house that some of Juliette's friends have. The seventh floor has wooden _everything_ thats unfinished, and benches instead of couches that look like 'logs' and chairs with no back that look like 'tree stumps'. Their décor is all leaf-green. But here, I'm not sure what it looks like. District 2 is supposed to be masonry, or work with stone. But it's no secret that they also provide most of the Peacekeeper force and are a military base. This looks nothing like that.

Everything is white. White walls, white floors, white furniture. There's some beige – a rug in the living room, some of the bed sheets. But it's just so... unexpected.

Cards isn't that bad. I'm not that good, but I still have some fun. We drink a little, but I only drink one beer. I don't want to get drunk. The morning after drinking made me feel like shit. Enobaria is pretty tipsy, and giggles about everything. All four of us watch the recap of the day's events, with Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith giving their input on _everything._ They show the clip of Blight's tribute being killed by Stephanie and Enobaria's tribute.

"Ugh. She's _such _a bitch." Enobaria complains of her tribute. "Seriously. The only thing she's good at is throwing knives and hand-to-hand. She thinks that makes her a perfect twelve or something. She knows _nothing _about survival skills or anything else of use. Oh, and this is the best. Guess what? She thinks she's gonna hook up with you, Finnick, if she wins. _I'm so pretty, he has to looove me._" She mocks her. I detect a tinge of jealousy in her voice. Natalie chuckles a little, and lights a cigarette.

I don't like District 2 girls. They all look and act virtually the same. Dark hair and eyes, same skills, same weaknesses, same personalities. When you know one, you know _all_ of them. "Nah. She's not my type."

Enobaria raises one of her impossibly thin eyebrows. "What _is_ your type then?" The way she says it gives the impression that she thinks girls from her district are the most attractive, and that we all love them.

"Johanna Mason is his type." Blight answers for me. I throw a pillow at his head, even though it's really true.

"I don't _like_ her. I just think she's hot. There's a difference." I point out, but it doesn't really help. It's really obvious that I do. I mean, I've been drooling over her since the victory tour, and according to Blight, she's been trying to impress me.

"Wait, Johanna Mason. As in the tribute from District 7 this year?" Enobaria asks. Blight nods. "Holy shit. That's so cute. I forget your the same age as them. I wouldn't hold your breath though. 7 has had _one_ victor in sixty-six years. District _Twelve _of all places has done better than that. No offense to _the amazing_ Haymitch Abernathy, wherever he is."

Natalie changes the subject, by debating about cigarettes with Blight. I tune them out. Neither of them will agree about whether they're good or bad, since there's no bad health consequences, but it's very expensive and _very_ addicting. Enobaria seems just as bored as I am. "Wanna get out of here? We can talk in my room." She suggests.

"Why not?" I say, and we stand up and go to her room. Something tells me there isn't going to be a lot of talking. She's been undressing me with her eyes for the whole day.

Surprisingly, we actually do talk for a while, but it's about little things that make me think she actually likes me as a person. I go against what I said I would do, and I have three more beers. After probably an hour or so, Enobaria finally suggests what I can tell she's wanted to do for a while. "You know what we should do? We should hook up or something."

Maybe it's the alcohol in my system, or the fact that Enobaria is pretty hot (if you ignore her surgically altered teeth and bitchy tendencies), but I don't say no. I sit up on her bed, and our lips collide. There's no fireworks, but there's definitely something there. I let my hands become entangled in her long thick hair. Our tongues battle for dominance, and eventually, I win out. Enobaria bites on my lip hard enough to hurt a little, but not hard enough to draw blood (which her teeth have actually been used for). I refuse to pull away, until we're both gasping for breath. That was a _really_ good kiss.

"Wow." She says, smiling. We're rudely interrupted by Blight and Natalie, who were looking for us. I pull away from her as quickly as I can but it's pretty obvious what we were doing anyways. Blight whistles a little and Natalie smiles but shakes her head.

"We have to get back upstairs. But thanks for having us over." Natalie tells Enobaria, practically dragging me out of the room. I think Blight is staying for a little longer. Natalie doesn't speak until we're in the elevator. She asks me in a _very_ motherly voice, "Finnick. Did you hook up with Enobaria?"

"Yeah. I did." I shrug, sounding very apathetic. I'm not drunk, but I'm nowhere near sober. That's called being tipsy, I think. But I could be wrong. This drinking stuff is all new to me.

"Finnick," Natalie shakes her head and sits me down at the kitchen table. "Last night, you called her – and I quote – a psycho bitch. And now you're making out with her? You shouldn't do that. You'll get people's feelings hurt. And don't you like Johanna anyways?" I groan at her speech, I so don't want to deal with it.

"We made out. That's it. There's nothing wrong with that. It wasn't a big deal. It's not like we're dating or I said I have feelings for her that's more than physical attraction. Besides, I don't know if you forgot, but I'm a prostitute." I like Johanna but I also like Annie but in different ways and the whole thing confuses me a lot. "Look. Don't worry. I'm _Finnick Odair. _I should be getting around anyways."

I decide I'm going to call Adrienne. I miss her, and I should check up on Annie's mom anyways. The phone rings twice, and she picks it up. "Adri? It's me."

"Finn?" She asks.

"Yeah. Sorry, I know that it's kind of late. I miss you guys. How's Annie's mom?"

"Great. She's doing a lot better."

"I think Juliette did it on purpose." I drop the bombshell on her. "Actually, I **know **she did it on purpose."

There's a long pause on her side of the phone. "Finnick, that's a huge accusation. We can talk about that when you get home. You sound like something's bothering you. What's going on?"

I sigh. "Girl problems."

"Try me. I'm almost positive I can help."

"Well. So you know how I like Annie."

"_Everyone_ knows you like Annie. Except Annie. She's oblivious to the whole thing."

"Yeah. I know that. But the thing is, I'm not sure if I like her in a romantic way, or like a family member. But I met this girl Johanna on the victory tour, and she's literally amazing and I don't even know how to describe her. But she's one of the tributes this year, and I don't know if she's going to make it out."

"The girl from district 7? She's really good. The odds are in her favor. 1-4, I think. And Finn, that's not your responsibility. You have to take care of the girl Stephanie from _our_ district. You're her mentor."

"I know, I know. But I saw Johanna a few times in the Capitol, and she was flirting and doing little things that everyone said were to impress me. And yeah, I can't stop thinking about her. But then, you know Enobaria?"

"The girl who won the Games a few years back? Yeah, she ripped someone's throat open with her teeth. Wait, don't tell me you like her too."

I laugh. "No, God no. But she's pretty hot, and we kind of hooked up. And I feel bad, since I like Annie and Johanna."

I can almost see Adrienne smiling and shaking her head through the phone. "Look, Finn. You need to be honest with yourself. If you like someone, don't do anything with anyone except them. I think you really like this girl, Johanna. So if she wins, go for her. But just don't let down your district by doing so."

"So, basically, what you're saying is that I should try to help Stephanie win, and do my best to mentor her. But if Johanna wins, I should go for her?"

"Exactly. Now you need to go mentor. We'll see you in a week or so. But Finnick, you shouldn't be making out with anyone. You're fifteen years old. Wait until you're legal." She says goodbye and hangs up. I feel better, as if all my internal conflicts have been resolved. In reality, only one of them has. I still feel a lot better, so that's what is important. I laugh a little at the irony of her last statement, that I shouldn't be hooking up. If only she knew that I was a prostitute. She can never find out. I will take this to the grave. Adrienne is the most selfless person I've ever met – she'd be crushed to find out what I've done to keep her and all of my loved ones safe.

I have trouble falling asleep. My mind is too crammed. What if Johanna wins? What if Stephanie wins? What if Enobaria's tribute wins, and she gets into a fight with Enobaria over who will make out with me? I don't know what I want. Obviously, I want Johanna to stay alive. But why should Stephanie have to die because of that. Steph was so sweet, and she's very skilled. She could easily win.

In the morning, I find out that's impossible. Enobaria's tribute killed Stephanie in her sleep. I should have been able to help, in some way. I know there's no way I could have – she didn't want or need anything from sponsors, and there's no way she could have seen her death coming. She was betrayed by her ally. Alliances never end well when there's a fight to the death, that's just a fact.

Johanna finds the girl from 9 when she's asleep, and beheads her before she could even know that she was being attacked. We're in the final four now. The odds are in everyone's favor if they have made it this far. However, the boys from districts 3 and 5 look like they won't last long. And they don't. Enobaria's tribute takes out the boy from 3 with a knife to the forehead, and Johanna buries her axe in the boy from 5's chest. The canons go off seconds apart from each other. They're almost done. The games should be over by sundown.

They're not. Two days and five women go by with no encounter between the two final tributes. I'm so anxious, I can barely sleep or eat. I just want this to be over already. But my anxiousness is overcome with overwhelming sadness for Stephanie's death. There's no way I could have helped her, yet I feel so responsible for it. How will I face her parents? How will I go home, with another death on my hands?That makes thirteen: Twelve in my games, one kid I couldn't bring home.

On the third day of no interaction, the Gamemakers set the camp of the girl from 2 on fire, and she runs straight into Johanna. She throws all four of her knives, and they miss, except for the one that gives her a slash in her forehead. Johanna tries to deliver a death blow to her opponent's chest, but she ducks and the axe ends up in a tree behind her. All they have is their hands now. I remember Enobaria saying her tribute was good at hand-to-hand. I'm worried.

The girl from 2 throws a punch. Johanna catches her arm, and twists it behind her head. I hear the crack of her wrist breaking, and I wince. That sounded like it hurt a lot. She knees Johanna in the stomach. The girl from 2 keeps fighting, and manages to give Johanna a bloody nose by kicking her in the face. Johanna takes her leg and holds it up, making her fall. She manages to get on top of the girl, and puts her knee on her throat. She's suffocating her. Johanna may be shorter, but she is definitely a lot stronger. Eventually, the girl stops fighting and her body goes limp. The canon sounds. Johanna has won. She wipes her nose and forehead, and stands up. Johanna has won with a body count of 9.

_Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the sixty-sixth annual Hunger Games, Johanna Mason! _Claudius Templesmith's voice rings out in the arena. I let go of a breath I didn't even know I was holding, and high-five Natalie. Enobaria storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I don't even bother to turn around._ She won. She won!_

"So, what now?" I ask Natalie.

"Well, Blight's gone already, he went to pick Johanna up from the arena. They'll be back for dinner. She has her interview tomorrow night, and the day after, we go home on the same train." She explains. Three days plus a train ride with Johanna? Sounds awesome. "Let's go back to the apartments."

When we get back, Grant is just waking up. He's wearing pajama pants, and sitting with a bowl of rainbow colored children's cereal in front of the television. It's still pretty early by Capitol standards, only a quarter past eleven. "Your girlfriend won." He tells us, mouth full of cereal. He sits up, and I can tell he has a great idea. "Hey, Finn. I can tell Nat's tired of babysitting you. Wanna go out?"

"Is this a date?" I ask him, jokingly.

Grant laughs and shakes his head. "You wish. No, but since you're gonna be spending a lot of time here, you might as well get to know the Capitol."

"You two have fun with that. I'm taking a nap." Natalie calls from her room.

I may hate the Capitol, but their lives are very enviable. They have so much entertainment, I'm positive they never get bored. There's the television, they even have _movies_, which are like two hour television shows, but instead of a bunch of episodes, they stand by themselves. Back in District 4, we have textbooks, but here they have stories written down in books. They have books for helping people cook, helping people with their fashion, and everything else anyone could ever imagine. They also have thousands of magazines. I buy a book called "Cooking with District Food" for Adrienne, and a movie about a mermaid who wants to be a person for Annie. I think they'd like it, or for all I know they'd hate it since it came from the Capitol.

Grant shows me all his favorite places: some bars, a few hotels, the places all important people come to, and landmarks I should know about. I might eat at some of these restaurants, sleep with people in some of these hotels. Next, Grant walks me to a tall building. It's modern-looking and resembles every other apartment building, but something about it seems different. "What is this place?" I ask him.

He looks down at his feet. "These are the victor's apartments. There's enough for the first one hundred victors. You get the keys to yours two Games after yours. So you'll get it next year. To live in the Capitol, you have to be invited. But if you're a victor, you can come and go as you please. Just call a list of people, and they'll give you a hovercraft ride over. We only stay in the training center apartments for when we mentor."

It seems like there's something he's not telling me. "Is there something else? I ask.

Grant nods. "When you have to come here at various times during the year, you'll stay there."

"Let me get this straight," I start, "I get an apartment here so they can have us come in and make more money by sleeping with more annoying rich people any time of the year?"

Grant doesn't respond. Which means that's _exactly _what it's for.

* * *

**A/N: **Things are different for Finnick than they are for Katniss because Snow _really_ doesn't like her, so he doesn't give her the amenities other victors have.

Did you like it? Make sure to review then! : )


	13. Chapter 13

Grant shows me around his apartment. It's not as big as the one in the training center, but it's not supposed to be. This is a _one-bedroom_, and it's meant for one person. Back at home, one-bedroom means exactly that. But here, it's a different story. There's maybe ten rooms – a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, a room with machines that wash clothes (laundry, he calls it), a 'library', a _gigantic_ bedroom with it's own terrace, a "guest room" (which looks like a second bedroom to me) and a room with a warm pool. Grant calls that one a hot tub. There's a large panel by the door where he can call one of the building's many Capitol attendants to bring him anything he needs. It's extremely Capitol, but better than going to other people's homes. "Not everyone comes here." Grant tells me, "Just the famous people, who you'd _like_ people to know you fucked." I stare at him for a minute. "You're a _sex symbol, _and you're what, fifteen?When you're legal, that's not gonna change. It's gonna get a _lot_ worse."

"Good to know, I guess." I say. We just hang there for a little, before I have to go. I sleep with three more women, and head back to the training center apartments.

When I get back, Natalie's in her room. She's on the phone, yelling at someone, so I just go to take a shower without saying hi. I'm excited. Johanna will be here in less than an hour. I get to see her soon. I get dressed, and try to make myself look nice. I look out the window, and hear shouts from the streets. Johanna is here. She gets out of a car, and walks into the building followed by Blight. I can't wait to see her. I realize I need to calm down. While I was fawning over her, she was in a televised fight to the death. She's had a rough time, and I need to be sympathetic. I need to, for lack of a better word, keep it in my pants.

I wonder what Johanna's fate will be like now. Will she go home and return to some variation of her normal District 7 life? Or will she have to be a whore like some of the other victors and myself? She's _hot_. If I think she is, the Capitol must recognize it, and want her to sleep around for their profit. I don't want that for her. I wouldn't wish this life on my worst enemy. Living in constant fear that my family could die and a moment's notice, and the nightmares that eliminate sleep as an escape. It's not an enjoyable way to live in the slightest.

I pick at my dinner, since I really don't have an appetite. The food _is _delicious, and I manage to eat my fare share of the cooked meat with noodles in a cream sauce. It's delicious. We're eating a few trays of chocolate covered strawberries – Natalie's favorite – when the elevator dings, and the doors open. It's not Johanna though, it's Blight. "You got strawberries and didn't invite me?" He asks, pretending to be deeply offended. He sits down next to her and eats three of them in only a few bites. "Wanna watch her interview? The escort took her down. It's on in five."

All four of us (Grant's back) sit on the couch, watching the interview that's about to start. Caesar Flickerman in his sparkling blue suit welcomes Johanna on the stage. She looks a lot different. She's wearing a lot of smoky makeup, but her lips are pink. _They look __**very**__ kissable._ She's wearing a long, dark green gown that shows off her curves, and her hair looks curlier. She lost a lot of weight in the arena. She was by no means overweight before her games, but now she looks like one of the Capitol models – almost as skinny as the kids we see pictures of from District 8. She still is very muscular and tanned. Grant's words take me out of my Johanna-induced daydream. "Stop drooling and sit up." He tells me. I shoot him a nasty look.

First, they play clips from Johanna's game. They show all of her kills, and the moment where she first threw the axe, and revealed her talents. Then, they show her interviews. The District 7 Mayor and his family are labeled as their family, and that she was adopted. That's not true. Grant told me her family died a year or so back. Then, they show a little kid. He's not of reaping age, and maybe is seven or eight. He has the same eyes and hair as Johanna. He's introduced as her little brother, Josh Mason. I can tell they're related. At least she has somebody she cares about left.

Caesar asks her about why Johanna chose her tactic. She raises an eyebrow, smirks and rolls her eyes, as if the reason is obvious. "Well, District 7 doesn't win much. We're not considered a threat. This helps me look harmless, so everyone will leave me alone, and they won't expect me to kill them, except for right before I do." The crowd cheers at the mention of death. _Typical._

She talks a little about her time in the arena, and then Caesar asks her what's next. "Well I'm gonna take a nap." She shrugs. The crowd laughs. "But after that, I'm just gonna go home. I miss my kid brother." The crowd goes _aww. _They talk for a little more, and then the seal shows and the anthem plays. She's done.

Blight stands up, and fixes his pants. "Come up in ten minutes," he tells us, and then takes the elevator up to the 7th floor. I'm excited, to say the least. I don't know what to expect. I'm jumpy with anticipation. So luckily, the ten minutes of waiting I have to endure are over very quickly, and Natalie goes with me up three flights.

As soon as I step out of the elevator, I'm bombarded by a green-haired woman. Everything about her screams Capitol, so I assume she's the District 7 Escort. She's _drooling_ over me, and making it very obvious. I fidget uncomfortably, as I look around. "Is this really _Finnick Odair?_" She asks out loud. I nod slowly, trying not to roll my eyes. "Oh _my_ God. It's so nice to meet you! I'm a huge fan of yours. You know, ever since you were reaped, I just _knew_ you were gonna win, everything about you makes it clear you're a -"

"Calm down, he's not legal yet." Blight calls, cutting her off. I can tell he doesn't like her very much. I wonder how Haymitch treats his escorts. I almost feel _bad _for them, the district escorts really don't do anything wrong that requires the maltreatment they get from the mentors. Then again, they _do _call the names of the people who are sent to die, so I understand the resentment. The increasingly large part of me that hates the Capitol reminds me that they're one of _them_, the pathetic, ignorant bunch who find entertainment in teenagers killing each other on television. Blight calls Natalie and I over, and we sit down. "I'll get you two drinks or something."

He returns a few minutes later with a beer for Natalie, and a soda for me. Johanna comes out of her room. She's changed out of that mouth-watering dress, and into what looks like the under slip for her dress. It's a short green body-hugging fabric, that _just_ covers her. She still looks ravishing, maybe even more so_. I'd like to ravish her._ "Let me know when you're gonna stop drooling." Johanna quips, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Nice to see you too." I smirk cockily. "Besides, what makes you think I'm even _interested? _Maybe I like Capitol girls." Natalie makes a choking noise in response.

"Hm. Sure." Johanna shrugs, sounding unconvinced. She sits down next to me, and crosses her legs, revealing even more of her soft, tanned skin. _I'd love to feel it-_ _I need to stop. _She tucks a loose piece of her hair behind her hair, and leans into me, so her lips are hovering by my ear. She whispers, "Don't act like you don't want me. You're not fooling anyone."

Damn, so she knows. That's not good. Then again, I've never been that subtle about it. I'm pretty sure _everyone _knows. I'm pretty sure being a prostitute hasn't helped me become more discreet about anything. It's really done the opposite. I decide to keep up with my Capitol attitude. "So what? Maybe I _do_ want you?" I ask back quietly.

Johanna laughs loudly, and then smirks. Her lips are _on_ my ear. "Well Finnick, I hate to break it to you, since this is probably going to be a first. But you can't always get what you want." _Tease._

"Say it. Say that you don't want me." I dare her. She shrugs. "And you have to _mean it._" I add.

"Do you know what you need? A fucking reality check. You're not some fucking sex god." Johanna snarks quietly, rolling her eyes. "Sure, you're hot and all-"

"So you think I'm hot?" I ask, cutting her off. _She thinks I'm hot! I think she's hot. It's a sign._

"Not the point." She shrugs it off, her cheeks tinging a pale pink, "I'm not just some random whore that you can get with whenever you get bored with whatever Capitol girl you're fucking next." I smirk a little, since _I'm _usually the whore that the Capitol people get with.

"I never said you were." I point out. I hate when girls make assumptions based on absolutely nothing. Maybe I wanted to ask her on a date or something. I didn't, but that's not the point. I'm kind of glad she didn't ask me what I want, since I don't even know. I love girls, but they are way too crazy. Assuming this and that and getting angry over absolutely nothing. I wonder if Johanna and Enobaria would get along.

"This conversation is over." Johanna stands up, smooths out her skirt, and walks to her room, slamming the door behind her. Blight and Natalie stare at me for a few seconds, and then return to their conversation. I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. That did not go nearly as well as expected. At least she thinks I'm hot. But then again, most of the female population in the Capitol does. And over the next few years, a lot more of them will. Sadly, that means more buisness. _Fantastic, that's just what I need. _More people to sleep with, like I haven't slept with enough. I'm fifteen years old, and I've fucked twenty-four women and four men. It was only meaningful with one of them, Lily. And now Lily's dead. So, my love life is obviously not going too well.

I'm still intrigued by Johanna. I just want to _talk _to her, to find out what she likes, what makes her tick, what makes her sad. I just want to know everything about her, and I'm not quite sure why. I follow her into her room. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off, "Before you tell me to get out, please just hear me out."

"I'm listening," Johanna says, folding her arms over her chest. It makes her breasts almost pop _out_ of her dress. "Up here, Odair. I'm gonna hear you out, you better start talking before I change my mind."

I frown and look up. "Okay. Johanna-"

"Jo. Call me Jo. _Please_." She corrects me.

I take a deep breath and start, "Alright. Jo it is. Look, I _do_ think you're attractive, I'm not gonna lie. But I don't think I want or could handle a relationship right now, and I don't want to start anything like that with you, honestly. I do, however, want to be your friend or something. You're just a really cool person and I like you."

Johanna, I mean Jo flops down on her bed, and smiles a little. "Sounds good. You can stay here." _Success._ "So, tell me _Finnick_, what do you do in your spare time?" I'm really happy. She seems open to being friends, which is a good start, I guess. I _do_ want to touch her, kiss her, dare I say I want to fuck her? But we've really just met, and not every girl is some one night stand, or some paid fuck. I have to treat Jo better than that.

"At home? Well I have a lot of spare time. You don't have to go to school, and you don't need a job. I like to run, and I swim a lot. I help down at the school, where we train careers. It sounds really bad, turning these _kids_ into killing machines. But on the other hand, we also teach them survival skills and how defend themselves, so maybe, we can bring a few more of them back home. And we're nowhere near as harsh about it as District 1 and 2. Um, I hang out with my best friend Annie, but I've been so busy lately. It's so scary, because she could reaped any day, and it would kill me if I couldn't bring her home. Well, what about you"

"Ah. This is kind of weird, you always seem to come off as a shallow prick, but I guess you're not that bad." She says, nodding and smiling a little. "Well, I don't have a lot of free time. I usually am at school, or taking care of my little brother. After school, I work at the publishing factory. A lot of people don't know that District 7 makes all the books for all of Panem, but it makes sense, since we have a _lot_ of trees."

"Publishing? That sounds really cool. I'm guessing you like books?" I assume. "I picked up a bunch of books from a bookstore here for my family, but really, the only books back in 4 are in the educational ones in our schools."

"Yeah, I love reading. But I don't have a lot of time to read. Luckily, I guess I will now. And my brother will never have to sign up for tessarae. I had my name in there thirty-two times this year."

"How old is he?" I ask her.

"He just turned twelve yesterday." She says, sighing. "I feel like to some degree, he's pretty safe since he has me for a sister, and if he were to be reaped, I'd be able to protect him. How old is your_ friend_, Annie?" Do I detect the slightest bit of jealousy in her voice? I sure hope so.

"Thirteen. It sounds pretty weird, since she's two years younger than me, but it's never really bothered either of us."

"Do you like her?" There it is. The one question I honestly can't answer.

"I don't know. It's complicated, you know." I say. It's an honest answer; I don't know. "Sometimes Annie does these things, and I think I'm in love with her or something. And other times, I love her like a little sister."

Johanna shrugs. I'm not sure if wants to know simply because she's curious on how I feel, or because she wants me. The former is more likely. Then again, she _did_ say that she thinks I'm hot. So who knows? She yawns a little, and stretches her arms. "You should leave. I'm gonna go to bed." I look over at the modern-looking clock on her nightstand. It's a little before ten. _Who goes to bed this early, especially in the Capitol? _I remember that she was in the Arena of all places, so she's probably exhausted.

"Night." I say, closing the door to her room behind me. Hopefully, she's so tired that she won't have nightmares. I walk back into the living room, and tell Blight and Natalie. "Jo went to bed. I'm going downstairs. See you in the morning."

I get off the elevator at the fourth floor, and find Grant sitting on the couch, eating ice cream out of the container, and watching something on the television. "Hey there." I say, and plop down next to him on the couch, kicking off my shoes unceremoniously. Grant looks up from his ice cream, and nods at me.

"Did you fuck her?" Grant asks me bluntly. I just stare at him. "Johanna Mason. Did you or did you not have sexual relations with her tonight?" I throw a pillow at him, and he drops his container of ice cream, cursing me out. It fell on its side, and luckily, none of it spilled out.

"No. I didn't. She's not _like_ that. I care about her. Besides, I almost have too much sex. The district slut sleeps with what, maybe five people? I've slept with twenty-eight!"

"There's no such thing as too much sex. And you're counting the wrong times. You only count it when it's with somebody you care about. If you're getting paid, it _definitely _doesn't count. That's a shame. She's pretty cute." I shoot him a look, and Grant raises his hands defensively. "Chill. I'm just saying. I have Nat, remember?" Grant opens two beer bottles with his teeth. He hands me one, and gently hits our glasses together.

"I care about her. She's not just some random fuck. Besides, she might not have to deal with the shit we do if she's lucky."

"Doubtful. I know you don't wanna hear this, but I will always tell you the truth. She's young, pretty, and her games were _unforgettable._ Also, you see how much she cares about her brother. I'm sure Snow picked that up, and will be eager to use that against her." Grant points out. I hate to admit it, but he's right.

"It's really not right, that they make us do these types of things." I sigh. If I could, I would change _so_ many things about Panem.

"Finnick. You need a reality check. We're in a country where they slaughter children for fun. Do you _really_ think they care about what's right and wrong?" Grant tells me, sipping his drink. His show ends, and he flips through the channels. There's some show that he likes. "This is an _award show._ You know how when you saw my apartment, I said that tons of celebrities live in there too. Well the people in the television shows and movies, they're famous like us. And they give prizes out to people, for being the best actor or the best movie of the year. It's really cool, since I've seen all these movies. When you live in the Capitol long enough, the culture will rub off on you.

"That terrifies me." I admit.

Grant sighs, and shakes his head, smiling a little. "I don't mean the part with killing kids and being okay with it. I mean with the movies and fashion trends and which celebrity is dating that cute girl. Your step-mother Juliette, was an old television actress."

"Really?" I ask, shocked. She _is_ dramatic, but I thought that was just a Capitol thing. She's never brought it up either.

"Yeah, really. She was pretty good. But maybe ten or fifteen years back, there was a _huge_ sex scandal with her and her married co-worker, and basically, that broke up the most popular marriage in Panem. After that, nobody wanted to hire her, so she moved to the Districts for whatever reason. The word is in the Capitol is that she killed herself."

"What?" I spit. The wheels in my head are turning a mile a minute. _Juliette is a home-wrecker. I can so use that against her. _"What was her last name?"

"She went by Juliette Lowe." Grant says, standing up. "C'mon." He pulls me into his room, and opens up a _computer. _Juliette has one, but I only know her as Juliette Odair. Grant goes onto the internet, and goes to the search engine website. He types in Juliette Lowe, and at least a hundred results come up. There's a portrait of her, and an article. I hover over Grants hand and click on the link. I can tell it's Juliette – light brown, wavy hair, pinched nose, pink lipstick smile. She's only in her mid-thirties, but looks like Natalie's age in the photo. A young star falls from grace, how cliché. I read the mini biography:

_Juliette Lowe was born on December 5th in the Capitol. Her parents were both from the Capitol as well. She attended East Hills High School, and graduated at the top of her class with honors. She decided on a whim to audition for a small role in the movie **The Sponsor**, about a sponsor for a tribute that wins the seventy-third Hunger Games. However, she ended up receiving the supporting role of Louisa, and winning multiple awards for the part. After that, she starred in the hit television show **Three Saturdays, **and the much less popular show **Holidays **with Matthew Diamond._

_Juliette and Matthew's affair was very public and very embarrassing for both of them, especially since Matthew had a newborn son, Thomas with his wife. Many critics criticized the on-stage romance between Matthew and Juliette because of the consequences it had off-stage. **Holidays **was canceled after three episodes._

_After the public divorce of Matthew and Christina Diamond, Panem's (arguably) favorite couple, Juliette Lowe was unable to find work. Nobody would want to hire her, since virtually every since critic hated her, and many people were not fond of her reputation. Juliette went into hiding, and disappeared. Her house was sold a month later. Many people speculate that she committed suicide out of shame, but there is no proof of her whereabouts, if she still is alive._

"Well, shit." I say, taking a deep breath. That was unexpected, to say the least. "What do you think would happen if she came out of hiding?"

"I have no idea. The son, Thomas is your age, and is starting an acting career. He might do a bit better if she pops out, but I'd imagine it would be terrible for her. Hate mail, phone calls, people will literally show up at her house, paparazzi _and_ fans of Matthew and Christina." Grant sighs. I can't help but smile at the idea of terrible things happening to her. Grant's eyes widen as he takes in my expression. "Oh, no. You can't. I've talked to Juliette, and she's kind of – for lack of a better word – a bitch. But it'll look bad for you, your dad, your family."

"Maybe less people will want to sleep with me if my step-mother is a hated, psycho, home-wrecker." I point out.

"No, no no. Finnick, don't you _dare_ do anything stupid." Grant warns me. "I'm your mentor, and I'm here to _prevent _you from fucking up. Try to help me and don't go out of your way to make Snow hate you."

For some reason, I think that Grant might be right on this one. So, I don't do anything rash, and I don't think I will. But I'm _positive_ that I'll let Juliette know about my new-found knowledge of her past.

* * *

**A/N: **How was that? Sorry, it was kind of a weird way to end it, but I didn't want to end on a cliff-hanger.

Review if you liked it! You can always PM me if you have any questions/comments/ etc. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to update! I had finals week and was too busy studying to write 4,000 words. Anyways here it is, better late than never!

* * *

"Finnick!" Someone yells. I jolt awake, sitting up in shock, hands looking for a weapon. I find a pen and swipe it through the air blindly. It's dark, except for the few rays of light coming in through the bottom of my bedroom door. The lights turn on. Natalie's standing there, amused. She un-crosses her arms and sighs. "We're going home. Thought you'd wanna come with us. Get yourself dressed and your crap packed – we leave in an hour." She tells me, before leaving me to get changed and closing the door behind her. I throw all of my crap into the large duffle bag I brought here, and get dressed.

I have enough time to grab a cup of coffee (no milk, two sugar cubes) to-go and a piece of fruit (some cross between an apple and a peach) before we get on the train. Grant, Natalie, myself, Blight and Johanna are all waved goodbye by a cheering crowd. I will _not_ miss the Capitol, not one bit. But I will be back here soon, too soon. Then again, any time at all is too soon. I'll come back in when Johanna gets to 4 on the Victory tour six months from now, right after my sixteenth birthday. Great, I'll be of age, and I will be sold to even more desperate Capitol people. Sounds like tons of fun_._ And then, I'll be back for the 67th Hunger Games. _Yay._

"The train is actually pretty nice. I didn't notice that coming here." Johanna comes up behind me, interrupting my thoughts. "I guess that's because I was trying not to think about being in a televised fight to the death." There's a hit of sarcasm in her tone, but there sounds like some deeper pain. I turn around, and notice how _tired_ she looks. The type of tired that only victors truly understand. The inability to sleep from nightmares. I didn't get much sleep last night either, but I'm almost used to it now.

"You look tired." I tell her, trying not to sound sympathetic. She'd hate it. "Nightmares?" I don't know why I ask, since the answer is an obvious yes.

Johanna rolls her eyes and , scoffs. "What am I, a toddler?" I raise an eyebrow at her to let her know I'm not buying that. She sighs, and leans back on the wall of the high-speed train. "Yeah. Is that normal?"

"Yeah." I frown, giving her a warning. "They don't get any better over time."

Johanna bites her lip, and mimics my facial expression. "Oh." She says, quietly. She quickly composes her natural 'bitchy' expression, and adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Blight, Natalie and Grant have gone to the dining car next door, and I can hear them laughing over breakfast. "Wanna go somewhere?" She suggests. I nod. I'd follow her anywhere. Johanna drops her bag on a chair, and I do the same.

We walk to the back of the train, and she stares out the back floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the extensive track behind us. The Capitol is the size of a small village from this far away. She train jerks to a sudden stop and she falls off-balanced. I lift my arms out to catch her. We just kind of stare at each other for a little, not knowing what to do or say. Finally, a Capitol attendant comes in to let us know that the train is having a technical problem. "Thanks." Johanna says, standing up. "Thanks." She turns to me, smoothing out her dress. "So what happens now?"

I sigh, sitting down. There's only so much I can dare to tell her. Johanna takes the cue and sits down as well. "Well, it's different for every person. But really, you just chill for a few months, lie low, move into your new mansion in the victor's village. A few weeks before the Victory Tour, President Snow might come to visit to _congratulate _you."

"What do you mean? He _never_ leaves the Capitol, never." Johanna asks, confused. I just smile sadly and shake my head.

"That's why I said _maybe._" I try to explain, "It's different for every victor. I really can't explain it, you just have to wait a few months. Mentoring is a whole different story. It's a gigantic burden. Really, it's difficult, because yeah, you only can prepare these kids and help them to some extent. They're on their own, and they have to take care of themselves, but still, you're responsible. Having to go home without any of your kids with you, it's heartbreaking. It's almost like you've killed them. And no matter what, you'll only be able to save one, but usually that's not even the case."

Johanna looks up at me for a minute, something hidden in her dark brown eyes. "Wow." She just mutters. "I didn't even know you were capable of sympathy. Impressive." I shoot her a look. I guess we're back to the way we really are, the whole friend thing was just last night. Two can play that game. I guess I have to keep up the flirty persona, even with her. Oh well.

"So, who are you gonna live with?" I ask her.

"My kid brother. What about you?"

"My sisters, dad, step-mother, and step-sister but I'd rather just live by myself. Honestly, besides my sister, I can't stand them. My dad's the best, but my step-mother changes him, and now he's unbearable." It's the truth. Besides Adrienne, I just don't want to be around any of them. I'd honestly just rather be by myself. Besides, Adrienne's done with school, and has a good job teaching English at the school. She's gonna settle down and get married and start a _normal_ family. Maybe she'll have kids and maybe they'll be terrified of being reaped, or maybe they're careers that love the idea of bringing pride to their district. And they'll come talk to me, and I'll reassure them that it'll be okay, or that they'll do great, but not to volunteer because of whatever reason, but really because I'll be worried about losing them.

"Just kick 'em out then." Johanna points out. "Seriously. They have a house that they lived in, they can live there again. Send them back. You don't owe them anything." She's right. I really _don't _owe them the money or the fame. So why should I even bother? Besides, they're scared of me anyways. If they're _sooo_ scared, they can live back at the old house. Besides, it wasn't even that much of a downgrade. We had a pretty nice house. I nod at her, and smile a little. That's exactly what I'll do.

The days goes by pretty slowly. Blight has to talk and prep Johanna for her speech, and all the crap she'll have to do when she gets home. So, I play cards with Grant and Natalie, and we eat some ridiculously large lunch. After that, Natalie gets a headache so she just goes to lie down, and Grant and I talk. "I like her, but it's weird."

"I know. Just give it some, bro. Seriously, you're not gonna see her for a while. When you do, then you can figure things out. You need to chill out though. Take a break, chill out, watch some television, take a few shots. Go for a swim, whatever. You just need to manage your life. You have a lot of free time, so you're gonna need to find something to do." And he's right.

I don't know what I want to do. But, regardless of whether I'm awake or asleep, I'm haunted by my past. It's a terrible thing, but there's nothing I can do. I'm a killer, and that's just a part of me now. Everyone in Panem knows who I am and what I've done. And sadly, a portion of them go as far as to _like_ me for it. District 4 obviously likes me. The Capitol _adores_ me. Districts 1 and 2 admire my quick-to-kill instincts. I don't know why, and I'm not sure if I like it or not. They should _hate _me for killing their children, but that seems as trivial as it does to the Capitol people.

Finally, Johanna and Blight come back from wherever they were, and hang out with us. Blight starts a conversation about some Capitol thing that Grant must know about, and they debate back and forth on it for a while. I try to pay attention, since Grant keeps stressing it's importance, but I keeping zoning out and staring at Johanna. Finally, it's Blight who snaps me out of it. "Finnick. Up here. What do you think?"

"Uh, I really don't even know." I try to come up with a reply, but I have no idea what's going on. Johanna rolls her eyes at my terrible response.

Blight nods, smiling. "See, it's so despicable that he has nothing to say!" Grant rolls his eyes, and pushes a button on the couch. A Capitol attendant stumbles in a few moments later, holding a tray. She straightens up her purple hair, and walks over holding a notepad. Blight speaks for both of them. "He wants a beer, get me a soda?"

She writes it down, and looks back at us. "A-anything for Mister Odair?" She asks me flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes. Johanna scoffs.

"Please, hun. Get me a beer, thank you." I respond in the best flirtatious tone I can get out, and make sure to wink at the end. Her paper-white skin turns bright pink, and she stumbles away giggling.

"Aren't you too young for that?" Johanna asks. Grant starts laughing.

"Oh, please. Did you _see_ her? They all love me, and I mean it. Seriously, if I asked her to get on her knees right now, she wouldn't have said no." I _am_ speaking the truth, even though sex has pretty much lost it's value to me, which sucks. Grant nods in agreement because he _knows_ it's true. Johanna shrugs, contemplating the validity. She has no idea about any of it, except for the fact that I'm for lack of a better word, hot.

The attendant comes back a few minutes later with our drinks, and some water for Johanna. Johanna shoots her a few dirty looks, and I can't help but smile. Is she _jealous?_ I hope so. I love the idea of her wanting me even a fraction of how much I want her. Her, not any Capitol woman. Maybe I can tell her without it being weird one day. I pop open my beer and lean back on the couch, sipping my drink. I run a had through my messy hair, and try to stifle a yawn. I'm always so _tired. _Maybe it's that I haven't had a good night's sleep in over a year. It slowly wears you out, and makes it difficult to be energetic anymore. I feel like I'm _aging. _I'm probably just overreacting, so I shut my thoughts up and drink the rest of the beer, slamming the bottle on the wooden coffee table and wiping my mouth.

Grant and Blight just stare at me. Johanna shakes her head. After a few moments of awkward silence, Grant speaks. "Okay then, Haymitch. What's been bothering you?" I frown. He did _not_ just call me Haymitch. I'm not a grumpy alcoholic, or a sarcastic middle-aged man. And just because I drink a beer quickly doesn't suddenly make me a raging alcoholic.

I raise my eyebrows at him. _Seriously? _"You know _exactly_ what's bothering me. Don't think too much." I tell him, and then turn to Johanna. "No, I'm not _in looove_ with you. Don't even start. Not everything's about you." I see a flicker of some combination of relief and hurt in her eyes, and then it's replaced by a shrug. She wasn't offended, or at least she's pretending she's not. I do regret saying that. It was mean. Whatever though. I can be a little mean if I want to. I don't need or want people to like me. I want to go back to before I won my Games, before I was even reaped. When most of District 4 didn't even know who I was. Now the whole world does, and I absolutely hate it.

Natalie wakes up, and comes into her car in sweatpants. She sits down on Grant's lap, and kisses him passionately. Blight makes a gagging noise. It kind of hurt my stomach a little. They're so in love, and so sure of each other. I want something like that with _someone_, whether it's Johanna or Annie or some other girl.

We go to dinner. Johanna eats a lot, I barely touch my food. I don't feel hungry. Blight blames it on Grant and Natalie's 'little public make-out session', which causes Grant to hurl his peas at him from across the table. The Capitol attendants look on, shaking their heads. They'll have to clean this up later, but are too terrified to intercept the food-fight. Natalie catches on, and gets them to stop. Johanna hasn't spoken once. *

I jolt awake in my bed from a terrible, indescribable nightmare. I don't think I'll be able to go back to bed for a while, so I sip some water and try to steady my racing heart. A few minutes later, I hear a loud scream. I can't will myself to get out of bed. One of the attendants probably saw a bug and freaked out. There's a knock on my door. "Come in." I groan, turning on the light by my bedside table.

Johanna opens the door. Her usually perfectly straight hair is messed up, and all she's wearing is a baggy teeshirt. She still looks great to me. I can just make out the bottom of her panties. "I had a really bad nightmare." She tells me quietly. This is probably the first time she's admitted a weakness to anyone. "Can I sleep in here?" She asks me.

"Of course." I nod, moving over. She smiles a little, and walks over to the other side of the plush king-sized bed. She lies there awkwardly for a few moments, before reaching over me and turning off the light. "Does this bother you?" I ask her, "The fact that I'm in my underwear?"

She laughs. It's a short, high-pitched peal. It doesn't sound like any noise she'd make. "No. I actually like it. Besides, I'm not wearing pants." Johanna falls asleep quickly, her light breathing becoming even. I try to match her breaths, and soon enough, I fall asleep too.

I wake up, and feel something pressed on me. My arms around around Johanna's waist, and she's basically _spooning_ with me. Not that I mind. She grinds her back into me, and I realize how _hard _I am. Fuck. That's awkward. I carefully get out of bed, and sit in the bathroom on the closed toilet seat for a few minutes, trying to think of dead animals and babies. Eventually, I'm okay and I crawl back into bed. It's only five, and I don't have to wake up for a while. So I lie there, and try to fall asleep.

When I wake again, it's by Grant, Natalie, and Blight busting in. Johanna's curled up against me, a leg thrown over mine. It looks _very_ sexual. We both jolt up when they come in. "Holy shit. Jo. We had no idea where you were..." Blight exclaims, relived. He cuts himself off, and looks at how we were sleeping. He just shakes his head and smiles a little. "You two. Go get dressed, Jo. Lunch is in half an hour." She rolls out of bed, and pulls the hem of her shirt down. Natalie follows behind her.

Grant sits down on the edge of my bed, and as soon as the door closes behind them, he whistles a little. "Damn, Finnick. I was _not _expecting you to get with her. What was it, two days ago? You were all like _she's special, I'm gonna take it slow with her._" He mocks me, "And you have sex with her. I thought I heard a scream last night..."

I lean against the headboard, and roll my eyes at him, combing my fingers through my bed-hair. "We did _not_ have sex. We slept in the same bed, that's it. Seriously. We did not do anything. You'd know if we did, you'd be the first person I'd tell."

Grant shrugs, assessing my statement. "That makes sense. Alright, get dressed. See you in twenty in the dining car." I roll out of bed, and throw on some clean clothes from my bag. I'll be back home in time for dinner. I'm excited, but I'll miss Johanna a lot. I guess we'll talk on the phone. I'll see her soon enough, for the victory tour in a few months, and for the reaping next year. I know who I _won't _miss. Enobaria. Yeah, she's a pretty good kisser, and you'd have to be blind to say she's not hot, she's crazy and possessive of me for no reason. I don't want to be around her. I feel like she'll some how get my phone number and call up my house.

Speaking of my house, I have to tell my dad and Juliette and Dahlia that I want them to move out. That'll be a fun experience. I guess I'll talk to Adrienne about what to do and how to approach the topic. She always knows what to do, and what to say.

Lunch is awkward. Blight talks a lot, and gives everything a sexual undertone. Johanna's cheeks are pink and she doesn't look up from her tea, except to take bites of her overly-stuffed sandwich. Natalie sips her wine and smokes, occasionally blowing smoke in Blight's face. Finally I give up at the awkward silence. "We did _not_ have sex, okay?" I say.

"If you say so." Blight grins playfully. I know that he knows I'm telling the truth, but acts like he doesn't believe me. It's a little aggravating. The train slows down considerably, and a Capitol attendant comes in to tell us we're five minutes away from District 4. I excuse myself from the table to pack up my bags, which isn't that hard to do since I'm pretty much packed from when we left the Capitol yesterday. I have enough time to say my goodbyes.

"I'm gonna miss you, bro." I tell Blight, giving him a hug. "Call me sometime."

"Of course." Blight assures me, writing my home phone number on a sheet of paper and putting it in his pocket. "You can get mine from Grant. Next time I see you we're getting legally shit-faced. Prepare your liver." Natalie shakes her head and Johanna scoffs. Grant gives Blight a high-five, and I go to say my goodbye to Johanna.

"If you need anything, you can call me. Seriously, that's what friends are for. I'll see you in a few months, be careful." I tell Johanna. I'm so scared she'll screw up and that it'll have terrible consequences for her. All I can do is be there for her. She gives me a hug, and her lips brush my cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you soon." She says, sounding slightly indifferent. I see right through it. The train comes to a complete stop. "Take care, Finnick. I'll miss you." She says quietly, but loud enough for me to just catch before I get off the train. I'll miss her too.

Grant, Natalie and I get off the train and we're only a ten minute walk from the Victor's Village, so we ditch the car that was waiting for us and walk there. We're still district-people, not citizens of the Capitol, an we intend on acting like that.

When I get home, Adrienne is sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book and drinking coffee. Her whole face lights up when she sees me, and jumps off the chair, almost knocking over her drink to give me a hug. I reciprocate it, not wanting to let go. "I've missed you so much, Finn." She tells me.

"I've missed you so much." I say back, finally letting go. I look around, and notice the house is eerily quiet. "Where is everyone?" I ask her.

Adrienne's face pales, and she walks over to the fridge, sliding me a soda from across the table. I sit down. "Juliette and dad moved out." Before I question her, she shushes me. "Please, let me finish. Juliette saw the games, and then saw that you have friends who are victors as well. She doesn't like the idea that you're hanging out with, for lack of a better word, _killers_. I don't see you that way, but she's scared of you, which is pretty ironic since she comes from the Capitol of all places. But she's decided to move back to the old house, and brought Dahlia and Dad with her."

"Wait, really?" I ask, confused. _What the fuck? _On the bright side, I don't have to express my wanting them to move out, so that's good. But the whole thing just seems so weird, and I feel like something's being left out. Adrienne strokes my cheek.

"Don't let them change the way you feel about yourself, Finn. You're amazing and smart and funny and handsome and yeah, you were in the Hunger Games, but so what? You're still the same person you were a year ago." Adri reassures me. I kiss her on the forehead.

"Don't worry about me." I tell her, standing up. "I'm gonna unpack and chill out. I need a shower or something." I tell her, going upstairs. I throw my bag on my bed, and strip down, going into my bathroom. I run a hot bath, and sit in the scalding water, ignoring the pain. Eventually, I get used to the water and it feels nice. I just close my eyes and try to relax. No more Capitol woman or men, no more mixed signals from Johanna, no more Snow and no more Games and innocent kids dying, at least for a few months.

When my fingers have turned to prunes, and the waters turned lukewarm, I get out of the tub and throw on sweats. I'm just about to sit down on my bed when the phone rings. I jump to get it. "Hello?"

The voice at the end is unexpected. Never in a million years did I think that Cara, the mayors daughter would all me. Yeah, we kissed a few months back, but that was it. "What are you doing later?"

* * *

**A/N: **How was that? Review if you liked it! :)


	15. Chapter 15

_Is Cara asking me out? _I'm probably overreacting, she's by far the hottest girl in the whole district, and we have some _very_ good-looking girls. And I'm just _me. _I really need to work on my confidence, I am Finnick Odair, sex god. I should start acting like it. I smile and respond, "Nothing, at the moment. Why, do you want to do something?" _I'd like to be doing you._

There's a pause on her side of the line, and she takes a sharp inhale of breath. "Um, they're showing an old movie at the pier around 8. Do you wanna go with me? I was thinking we could grab some food before or something." She sounds nervous. I grin at the thought that _I_ make Cara Hill nervous.

"Cara. Are you asking me on a date?" I ask her playfully, grinning through the phone.

"Uh, yeah. Um, you know what? Never mind. I actually have plans, I have to go. Bye." She says quickly, hanging up on her end. That was weird, to say the least. I guess, if she wants to hang out, she'll call again or something. Girls are too confusing.

I get a sinking feeling in my chest. Here I am, almost planning a date with a girl I've talked to maybe three times, when I should be visiting Annie's mother, she could have died while I was in the Capitol. Also, Annie's been on my mind for _weeks_ on end, so why haven't I gone to see her? I decide to get up and walk the short distance to their house. I knock on the door, and a few moments later I'm greeted with a squeal. Annie swings open the door, and wraps her arms around me tightly. I'm engulfed in her arms, and thick brown hair that smells like the beach. It feels so warm and nice, and I finally feel at _home. _I know I won't be the first to let go.

After a few moments, Annie lets go, and opens the door fully so we both can walk in. We sit down on the couch, Annie clutching a mug of tea. I plop myself down next to her. This really feels like my second home. "I missed you so much, Finn. How was the Capitol?"

"It was alright." I lie. It was terrible. "I'd prefer to be here any day, but you know that. It's just so... freaky. You know how they dress with the weird colored skin and clothing, and surgeries. It's _creepy._" Annie nods in understanding, and strokes my cheek sympathetically. The small touch makes my skin tingle with electricity. "I really missed you. You have no idea."

"Actually, I do." She tells me, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh!" I say, remembering what I got Annie. "I brought you a movie. You know the tapes that they let us bring home from school? Well in the Capitol, they make up stories and turn them into videos that you watch for fun. "This one's about a mermaid. They make it on computers, and it's called a cartoon or something. I thought that you'd like it."

Annie's face lights up, and she jumps out of her chair, almost spilling her tea. "We should watch it right now!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, and I put the movie in the box that plays them on Annie's small television. District 4 gives a TV to everyone free of charge, so we can see all mandatory viewings without leaving our home. But only the ones in the Victor's Village have access to Capitol channels and shows. We sit down on the couch, and the movie starts.

_The Little Mermaid, _what the movie's called, is actually pretty good. There's a mermaid with blood red hair that wants to be a human. She sings a lot, and it's cute. Annie curls up on the couch, and puts her head on my shoulder. She usually does this, but for some reason I notice it a bit more than usual, and I can't help but think about it. Is it a friendly thing, or does she do it romantically? I really won't ever know. I know I _like_ Annie, but I still haven't figured out to what extent. It's all really confusing to me. A lobster sings a song about kissing a girl, and I can't help but smile a little. My eyes are drawn to Annie's heart-shaped lips. They're perfectly reddish-pink, without makeup like the other girls use. They cover their eyes in black, and make their lips unnatural shades of pink and red. Annie doesn't need that. She's perfect without it. I want to say _beautiful, _but the word feels foreign on my tongue. So I just glue my eyes to the screen and don't move them off until the credits roll.

Annie sits up and yawns, stretching her arms. "That was really good. I like it a lot. Thanks, Finn."

"Of course! Anytime." I look at the clock on the television box. It's almost nine thirty. "Shoot. It's late. I should get going." I stand up to hug Annie, and she wraps her arms around my waist. Her hugs are warm, and her hair smells like fruit. Her lips graze my cheek, and it takes an inhuman amount of restraint to not turn my head and kiss her. _I can't. _Annie doesn't feel that way about me, and she's my best friend. If I told her how I felt, things would get _awkward_, to say the least. I won't let that happen.

When I get home, Adrienne is on the couch in her pajamas, reading some heavily worn book. She's had it for a while, and I've seen her reading it for years. I don't see the appeal. After I read a book once, I just can't read it again. It lost the surprise: you know what happens at the end. "What is that?" I ask her, sitting down on the couch. "I always see you reading it, but I don't know what it even is."

Adrienne dog-ears the page she's reading and closes the book, putting it on her lap. "I stole a bunch of Juliette's trashy Capitol books when she first moved in. I thought it would be adventurous. For all that they do, the writers actually are pretty creative, and they seem to be passionate. I like a lot of them, but this one's my clear favorite. You should read it sometime. It's about a very poor girl who has to resort to prostitution to feed her family. She also keeps it a secret from them, since she's ashamed even though she's only doing what she has to. It's sad but it's... touching. I could never imagine having to take on such a burden at such a young age – the main character's sixteen."

_I could imagine that, very easily. _I don't know if prostitution is the right word. I'm not doing this because I want to, or because I need the money, I only do it because I have to. Still, it actually sounds like a pretty good book. "Yeah, I'll have to read it sometime." I agree. And I will.

I pull myself up the stairs, and throw my clothes on the floor. I crawl into bed in my boxers without even bothering to wash my face or anything. I'm exhausted. I have nothing to do, and at the same time I'm always so overwhelmed. I just need a good night's sleep. Easier said than done.

My nightmare is different tonight. I dream that I'm lying down on what must be a bed or a couch. I'm not restrained, but for some reason I can't sit up. Or move at all for that matter. Twelve ghost-like figures (presumably of the twelve people I've killed) come through the floorboards, and slowly kill everyone I care about – Dad, Adrienne, baby Dahlia, Annie, Grant, Natalie, Blight and Johanna. I'm helpless through all of it, and it's terrifying. There needs to be some way to make it stop. I just want to sleep like I used to. Even a few hours of dreamless sleep would be enough.

I decide to get some air to clear my head. I walk outside, and Natalie's light's on. She's sitting in her front yard, smoking. She blows a puff of smoke into the air and coughs. She sees me, and waves a gloved hand. I walk over. "What's that for?" I ask about the glove. She only has one on.

"Smoke kind of lingers on you... it's gross. You can't scrub it off your hands." Natalie explains. She pushes it down on a metal plate, and then tosses it into a trash can. She takes off the glove, and hands it to me. "See, smell it. It smells, and my hands don't. That's also why I wear a lot of scarves. Well, it's also for the hickeys."

"You're an adult though. Why does it matter?" I ask her.

"The Capitol... you don't want to trust them with these kinds of things. If you ever have a long lasting, loving relationship, keep it out of the press' eyes. Not even hand-holding in public. They'll use it against you in a second. Don't even tell a trustworthy Capitol person, because really none of them are. It's not worth it. They won't know we're together until we get married, if it comes to that." Natalie explains. She looks up and looks me dead in the face. "If you only remember one thing I tell you, remember that. Seriously. They will _crush you, _or even worse, crush them."

I know she's trying to help, but it sounds threatening and kind of scary. On an impulse, I ask her, "Can I have one of those – one of your cigarettes?"

Natalie raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not expecting me to ask that. I wasn't expecting myself to ask that. She sighs, and mumbles _fuck it._ "I guess you can. But do you _really_ want to start something that's this hard to quit. There _are_ health risks, and quite a few. It makes it hard to breathe. And it's expensive. But, I guess. It's up to you."

"Why'd you start?" I ask her.

"It calms me down. After my games, I was a _mess._" She admits sheepishly, as if it's something to be ashamed of. We all are. "Anyways, I'm calmer, I can think more, and I even sleep through the night sometimes."

"Alright." I say. "So, like how do I do this?"

Natalie winces, and bites down on her lip. "Finn, I can't do this. I'm sorry. Look, you're just... too good. I can't ruin you like this." She stands up and gives me a hug. "I'm sorry, but I'm really not. I'm your mentor, and I need to make sure you make good choices. This isn't one of them. I'm sorry." She kisses my forehead, and wraps her robe around her body, walking inside. I sigh, and lean back on the chair on her porch, and stare at the stars. All of the lights in the village are off, except for a dull light in my window.

I wonder what life was like, before the dark days. Why did we rebel against the Capitol anyways? I don't even know what they did that the people didn't like. I wonder if it was even worth rebelling – since now there's the Games and other terrible things. The Capitol also probably overreacted a bit with the whole 'fight to the death thing'. It doesn't seem necessary. I guess I'll ask Mags, since she was a toddler when all of that happened. Surely, she has to know. But that will wait until morning. I should at least go back inside. *

I get the phone call the next morning around eleven. It takes me a few minutes to realize where it's coming from, so I don't pick it up that quickly. "Hello?" I yawn, rubbing my eyes. Even when I don't have school, I hate Mondays.

"Finnick? This is Ms. Ryans. From District 4's Excellence program. As you may know, the first day of school was a few weeks ago, and we were wondering if you would be interested in teaching our class of twelve year olds. It's Monday through Thursday from one to three in the afternoon, most weeks. We'd pay you a small sum-"

"I'll take it." I shush her. Ms. Ryans was my History/District Studies teacher (there's less than a hundred years we actually study, so calling it history seems wrong). She's prone to rambling. "I'll be at the school by twelve thirty. See you soon." I say, hanging up quickly.

The Excellence program is basically Career training. We're a little better about it than Districts 1 and 2. We teach them survival skills, and how to use weapons. We don't turn them into volunteers, we just give them a better chance at living. We almost always make it to the Top 8 every year, which is a lot more than most districts can say. I know a lot of people view it as _cheating._ But wouldn't you want to give your kids the best chance of possibly coming home? I would.

Then again, I haven't seen my parents at all. I'm beginning to think that they don't want to see me. After the games, they've been distant. _Or,_ I could be distancing myself. I don't even know. I'm scared that they see me as the monster I really am. Am I even still my dad's son? I don't talk to Adrienne _nearly _as much as I used to. Then again, what do I have to talk about? School? Nope. The Games? Nope. Neither of us can ever be reaped again. _Thank god. _I have Annie. I have Adrienne to some extent, and while I really don't have parents, I have Mags, Natalie and Grant. And they're right outside my door. That's all I need. I'll be okay.

* * *

I meet Ms. Ryans in front of the school half an hour before the twelve year-olds have their class. Twelve, thirteen, and fourteen year olds get basic training. After that, you find your specialty, or whatever it is that you're good at, and you just focus on that. There's ten of us helping the kids in ten of the areas: finding food and water, making a shelter, making fire, hand-to-hand combat, using swords, throwing and cutting knives, spears, axes and bows, and my favorite: tridents. It's terrible and almost sickening I have a favorite weapon, but that's just the world we live in.

There's 200 twelve year-olds in District 4, so each of us have twenty people to teach. I'm given the trident group, which is a fantastic decision. I'll work with them until the end of the week, and then the group will move onto the next section. They pay me _a lot _for District 4. Each 'week', which is really only twelve hours of showing kids how to use weapons, I get what my dad would make in a real 7-day week. And we were pretty well-to-do. Then again, most of District 4 lives comfortably. Food on the table, clean clothes and proper-fitting shoes. We're really lucky. I remember all of the small kids running around District 12 when I was there a year ago for my victory tour. Over there, they literally _die of starvation. _It's terrible.

Ms. Ryans gets all of the twelve year olds to sit down on the floor in the gym-like area. It reminds me of the training center. She quickly briefs them on what this is, and why we do it, and how it shouldn't be discussed outside of school, even though _yes the parents know about it._ Everyone knows we aren't supposed to be doing this, but nobody talks about it, or stops it. It's kind of weird. I don't question. She points to the different stations and introduces all of the "teachers" and what they'll be helping with. When she gets to me, I give a small wave, and all the girls start whispering amongst themselves. _Great._ I can't escape being adored, even at home. I know, I should love it. But it's kind of annoying. You get sick of the attention really quickly.

Ms. Ryans separates the kids into groups, and my first group comes over. There's about an even number of boys and girls. They all sit down on the mat by my feet. "Hey. I'm Finnick Odair, but you guys probably knew that." I say, introducing myself. There are a few giggles from some of the girls. I have to bite my tongue to stop from rolling my eyes.

I suck it up and continue. "I won the 65th Hunger Games. You guys have to worry about being reaped for the next few years. If you _do_ get reaped, I'll get to know you better. But first, some advice. _Don't _get tessarae if you don't need it. You don't want to be reaped. I know by the time you're seventeen or eighteen, you'll think you have a pretty good chance of winning, and maybe you wanna bring pride to your district. But you could have some insane competition from Districts 1 and 2. But you also have to worry about the odd one. There could be a tribute from... oh, I don't know, District 6. He or she could be _amazing_, and you wouldn't have expected that when you volunteered. Like this year. A girl Stephanie volunteered. She was very good, but other people were better. And she didn't win. Think of how you would feel if that happened to your sister or brother, or a friend. It won't be fun. Don't get cocky."

"In this station, you'll be learning about tridents. I used one to win my Games. I was... particularly bloody with it. But you could easily win with less death on your hands, on the off-chance you were reaped. I wouldn't worry too much. There's two thousand different names in the reaping bowl, and the older kids have their names in a lot more. The odds are in your favor." I pick up a trident from the table behind me. "Does anyone here have any idea how to use this?" A girl from the back of the cluster stands up, and looks around sheepishly. I extend my hand to her. "Tell me. What can I use a trident for. Besides stabbing people."

Her eyes widen at my blunt statement. She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. It's hard to imagine that she's only three – almost four years younger than me. She seems so young, so innocent. "Well, you can use it to catch fish, like spear fishing?" She says, her voice going up at the end of the sentence, as if she's asking me for reassurance.

I nod at her. "Very good. What's your name?"

"Amanda. People call me Mandy."

"Okay Mandy. Very good. Can you show me how you would hold the trident?" I hand it to her. She picks it up and holds it awkwardly. "I don't know if that's quite right. Does anyone else want to try?" Nobody volunteers. "Okay then. You want to hold it overhand, like this. And if you were to stab something, or rather, _someone_, it would be like this." I stab a mannequin, similar to the ones from the training center. A couple people gasp. "It's not scary." I point to a proud-looking boy, whispering to one of his friends. "You, come up here. You seem to think you know what you're doing. Go on, stab it in the chest."

He looks down, and stands up, His friend hoots and laughs a little. "Like this?" He asks me.

"You seem to think you know, don't you? Try it." I smirk a little. After a few grasps, he stabs it in what would be a perfect hit."

"Good job!" I praise him. "You would have done a _lot_ better if you listened. Peter, is it?" I ask him, looking at a sticker with his name on his shirt. He nods. "Sit down." I tell him. This isn't that bad at all. It's almost... rewarding_. _I get to help these kids, and give them a chance. And the only reason that I'm helpful is because I was in the games. Finally, I feel like this might have a positive consequence, even if it's not on me.

* * *

The next few months fly by. I'm usually working at the school (sometimes even helping kids extra on my own time), playing cards with Grant and Natalie, or at Annie's house when she's free. I fish a lot, and I'm on the beach or in the pool most mornings. I've talked to dad a little, I visit for dinner every Sunday night. I still am slightly bitter to Juliette, but not without reason. I'm teaching Dahlia new things, and she's even reading the toddler books I got her from the Capitol. I don't see Adrienne as much – she's been working full-time, and she got a boyfriend. He's really nice, but I haven't met him yet. I've been talking to Mags a lot more often. She writes poetry in her spare time, and I love to read it. Johanna calls every once in a while, when she can't fall asleep after a nightmare.

My sixteenth birthday finally rolls around. Annie makes me a collage of photos of us we've taken on a disposable camera. Adrienne and I drink part of a bottle of wine. She doesn't really like the idea of me drinking since she still sees me as a little kid, but she doesn't stop me. Grant and Natalie throw a small party for me (it's just the three of us, so it's not much of a party). Haymitch calls and says he'll have Johanna give me a bottle of his favorite whiskey when she comes through for the Victory Tour. Blight mails me a card. Johanna just says 'happy birthday', nothing special. I kind of wish she would have gotten me something. There's nothing that I want or need, but still I like the idea that she'd care enough about me to buy me something.

At the half-way mark between the 66th and 67th Hunger Games, there's a large celebration, and the Victory tour begins. There's a huge party in the Capitol, and Juliette (apparently) spends the whole night sobbing on the couch. I wish I saw her cry. That would bring me some type of sick satisfaction, and I don't even regret saying that. Johanna slowly makes her way through the Districts, optional viewing for her speeches. Of course, I watch. I get a call from none other than the lovely President Snow that I'll be joining Johanna's train, and spending two weeks in the Capitol. Natalie and Grant won't be there. As sad as it is, and as much as I'm dreading the time I'll spend there, I'm excited to be there with Johanna.

The day before Johanna's supposed to arrive, I spend all my time with Annie. She may be (almost) fourteen, and while that's about two years younger than me, but she's still my best friend. For some reason, I just feel weird telling her how I feel about Johanna. Especially since I'm not quite sure how I feel about her myself. There's so much I can't tell Annie. She thinks I'm going to the Capitol to meet with the stylists, so we can discuss style options for the tribute parade in the next Games. If only that were true.

I can't sleep that night. But it's really alright. I'm so nervous I don't even get nightmares. And if I do, I don't remember them, or notice I have them, which is really just as good. I wake up around nine, which is pretty early for me. I wake up around eleven since I have nowhere to go. There's a loud commotion in the town square, which is a five minute walk from the Victor's Village.

_She's here._

* * *

**A/N: **How was that? If you liked it, make sure to review. I kind of sped through that awkward period when Finnick's not in the Capitol, since this is a Finnick/Johanna story, and there's not much to write about when they're not interacting.

I think I'm going to put this on hiatus for a few weeks. I really need to put my grades/schoolwork first, and so I'm only gonna work on this fic's counterpart: _Secrets._ Also the writing'll be a little better when I'm not as rushed to meet a word count per week.

Check it out if you haven't read it yet!

As always, feel free to PM me if you have any questions /comments. :)


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **I know I said I wouldn't update for a while, but I got a rush of motivation and was able to put up a new chapter! Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

I'm filled with nerves. I'm not sure if I'm excited, anxious, or happy. Maybe a mix of all three. Someone knocks on the door. It's Natalie. She has her bags with her, and has traded her shorts and teeshirt for a _very_ Capitol dress. She could easily be confused with one of _them, _if she wasn't already a household name. The only thing that gives away that she's from District 4 is her brown hair, and (by their standards) minimal makeup. "C'mon. We gotta put our stuff on the train before her speech begins." I quickly say goodbye to Adrienne, and take my suitcase with me. I don't see Johanna – she's bombarded with photographers and the press that documents her Tour so it can be seen throughout the districts and, of course, in the Capitol. We give our bags to one of the train attendants, and take our seats on the stage.

Natalie gives me a rundown of how the ceremonies will run. I've seen them every year, but we have a special job. Johanna gives a short speech, Mayor Hill gives her a plaque of commemoration and some school-children give her flowers. Natalie and I, being the two most recent victors, give Johanna a small tour of District 4, and then we get her back to the Mayor's house by 6 for a _very_ exclusive dinner. Then we board the train for Districts 3, 2 and 1, then back to District 7, and finally, to the Capitol where we'll stay for two weeks. And five months from now, I'll be heading back, again_._

Going back to the Capitol is more nerve racking, but for different reasons. I no longer fear for my own life – but for my loved one's lives. On top of that, _anyone_ I love, or even any of my friends could be reaped if Snow wanted them to. Cara, any of the kids I sat at lunch with while I was in school, baby Dahlia (when she's old enough)... even _Annie._ Anyone but her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to her.

Johanna gives her short speech, thanking the district for it's hospitality and complimenting the beautiful sea. I can't help but assume she doesn't mean it, and I can almost sense the slightest tinge of hidden sarcasm in her tone. I can't blame her, really. While it was an interesting experience, I really had no interest in being in any of the other districts. There's polite, but loud applause, and Mayor Hill gives her a plaque. I have twelve in my room, plus a golden one from the Capitol. Then, a group of small children that look to be about five or six year old give her a bouquet of District 4's official flower and she smiles a little, but it barely reaches her eyes. I wonder what she's thinking about.

Our eyes meet. She nods at me a little, and then she casts her gaze at her shoes. They dressed her up in a deep blue dress that hugs her curves. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like how it looked on her, but I can tell she's not the type of girl who enjoys dressing up. Her stylist must be sick of her, or take pity on her the way most people in the Capitol view us district folk, even the "civilized ones". They consider us victors _civilized._ Don't ask me why, since we're by far, the most inhumane. Only here, would killing people be considered civilized. I bite my tongue so hard I taste metallic blood. That brings me back to attention.

Mayor Hill says a few words, the same thing she's said to every victor before me that I can remember. She shakes Johanna's hand, and then Natalie elbows me to stand up. Johanna walks over and shakes both of our hands. I think she squeezes mine, but it could just be a hand spasm. Honestly, I don't know. I can only hope that she was trying to reassure me of something, or reassure herself. Times like this make me wish that I could read thoughts. We're _friends, _I remind myself. If there's anything she needs or wants to tell me, she knows she can. We walk off stage and into a small room in the Justice Building. A Capitol attendant hands us small cups of a bubbly drink. Another type of soda.

"Jo, this is Natalie. She was my mentor." I introduce the two of them. Natalie smiles and says hello politely. Johanna just waves. When we finish our drinks, we have to take Johanna on a tour. She stays glued to my hip the whole time, to the point where Natalie gives her quizzical looks every few minutes.

After we take her to the Justice Building, the Victor's Village, the main port, we get to the beach. Natalie stops to light a cigarette. She walks a few feet away to a stand to buy a bottle of water, and Johanna hugs me tightly. She smells like pine and strong perfume. "You have no idea how much I missed you." She tells me, not letting go. I realized how much I craved someone else's warmth. And not in the sexual way, _especially_ now, but like from a hug. The last time I received a genuine hug from someone, that wasn't family, was a _while_ ago. I don't remember. Most of my friends are too busy with schoolwork to spend time with me, and anyone in their right mind would stay far away from me.

"I missed you too," I admit. "Are you okay?" I ask Jo. We haven't talked since after she won her Games, and that was months ago. She called me maybe once or twice a week in between, but that was really short and awkward. She would usually call around two or three in the morning, scared about some nightmare. She'd tell me about it, and I'd remind her that it wasn't real, and it was just a bad dream.

"I tell you everything later." She mutters quietly and pulls away, pulling up her dress in the front. A dark, realistic part of me knows what she's gonna say. She's gonna confide in me about what Snow asked her to do, and how scared she is. Maybe scared isn't the right word. Johanna Mason doesn't get _scared. _But she's dreading it. I don't even know. I could be totally wrong. I wonder if she's a virgin. I doubt it. She's _hot._ It's not my buisness. How would I even ask her that anyways? _Hey Jo. I know you think I'm a jerk and asshole and flirt, but that's only to keep my family safe because I'm forced to whore around for money I don't even need and chances are you do to. Anyways, I can't stop thinking about you and yeah, are you a virgin? _Real smooth, Odair. That would definitely work.

Natalie walks back over to us, and finishes smoking. She stamps out the lit end and just walks away. I see Johanna smirk a little. We follow her. I feel like the two of them will get along nicely. Besides, Natalie's not that much older. Jo's seventeen, and I think Natalie is only twenty-four. We walk down the beach for a little. As we walk back to Mayor Hill's house for the dinner, I ask Jo if she knows where Blight is.

"He's _here_, in District Four. I'm not sure where, exactly." Johanna explains, "We're not really talking right now, because he's kind of mad at me. Long story. Again, I'll tell you on the train. Why are you going into the Capitol anyways?"

"Long story. I'll tell you on the train." I mimic her. It's the truth though. She punches my shoulder lightly, and tries to put her arm around me. I tower over her at almost six and a half feet tall, and she's probably just over five feet. Even with her in heels, there's a huge height difference. It's awkward and she ends up giving up and putting her arm around my back. Natalie laughs, and tells her about the fishing here, asking her questions about District 7 and the lumber industry there.

Dinner is uncomfortable, but only for me. Mayor Hill and her husband spend most of the time trying to make polite conversation, but it usually doesn't work that well. Johanna doesn't look up from her food, and when she does it's to make a snarky comment about something, or to answer with a 'yes', 'nope', or 'thanks'. Cara glares at Johanna from across the table. She's _oozing_ with jealously, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't mind the attention. Grant and Blight are catching up, and Natalie's chit-chatting with the older victors and occasionally, Mayor Hill adds her opinion on a subject or comments on something.

Halfway through the second course of dinner, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. On the way back to the dining room, Cara pushes me against the wall, her face scrunched up in an angry glare. "Are you _flirting_ with that Johanna girl?" She asks, accusingly. "You _know_ how I feel about you. Was I wrong to think we had something between us?' I take a look at Cara, and realize she's always gotten what she wants. She's attractive, blonde, and rich. Guys don't shut up about her, and she rarely ever has a boyfriend for longer than a month or two, since she has so many boys _drooling _over her. Having any type of competition is new for her.

I laugh, and smirk to myself. "Jeez, Cara. Are you _jealous?_" I ask. "You're hot, she's hot. I can't be held down to _just _one girl." I explain, laughing. _I sound like such a dick. Perfect. _She shouldn't want me, I'm just trouble. I'll get her _killed. _Besides, even I _was_ dating her, I couldn't be faithful because of my _arrangement._

"Are you _rejecting _me?" She looks shocked, and insulted.

"Nope. I'm just saying that I can't be in a monogamous relationship with you. If you get bored and wanna spend the night, you have my number. But there's too many girls that want me for me to just pick one." I gently push her off me, fix my hair, and walk back to the table. Cara follows, a moment later.

"Did you fuck her in the bathroom?" Johanna asks me quietly over dessert. "That's a new level of classy."

"God, no." I respond, kicking her foot lightly under the table. "You have _really_ high expectations for me."

"I always expect the worst. That way I'm either right or pleasantly surprised." She tells me, and I notice that she seems kind of sad.

"_Always_?" I ask. Surely, being pessimistic gets old after a bit.

"Once, I was wrong. I was caught off-guard, and I was hurt in the worst way." Johanna gulps down the rest of her drink in one sip. "What can you really expect though? It's a crazy world we live in, and even the strongest among us get hurt. Except for _him_. God, I hate him so much."

"We all do." I agree. She doesn't even have to mutter his name for me to know she's talking about President Snow. He single-handedly ruined my life. Well, not single-handedly. But he's mostly to blame. "He should get together with my stepmother for drinks. They have a lot in common."

"She's Capitol, right?' She asks me. I nod, and she scoffs. "_Ew._ How do you live with it?'

"I don't. I live by myself. Well, my sister is there too, but she wakes up before me and when she gets home, I'm usually out by then." I explain. Adrienne works at the school as a writing and history teacher from eight in the morning to five at night. But she always gets food with her boyfriend after work, and I don't see her much, except on weekends. I really want to meet her boyfriend, but I feel like she doesn't want me to. Or maybe they've been dating too soon, I really don't know.

Johanna nods. She told me that she was gonna move into her house with her younger brother. They had been living with the mayor because her parents died a few years back. Now that she's sixteen, it's alright. But now instead of buying her own home, she lives in the empty Victor's Village with Blight.

After dinner, we say our goodbyes. Mayor Hill shakes my hand and tells me I'm welcome over for dinner any time. Cara kisses my cheek, and calls me _hon_ even though I'm not her 'hon' or her anything for that matter. Grant pats me on the back and wishes me good luck. He kisses Natalie goodbye, in a reserved kind of way. They've gone somewhat public with their relationship, but not in the Capitol. Finally, we board the train, and we pull far away from District 4 and on towards our next destination. It's a day's trip, and we'll get there tomorrow afternoon. There's really not much to see, so basically there's just a speech, shorter dinner, and then she leaves. I won't even get off the train there. I have no reason to, in Districts 1, 2 _or _3. I'm actually very eager to _stay on_ the train in District 2 because of Enobaria.

I get settled into my room and change into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, and make my way to the lounge car on the train. I order a cup of mint tea – with two sugar cubes for sweetness, and stretch out. Johanna joins me there a few minutes later. She's in pajama shorts and a tank top, and she's taken off the pounds of makeup that her stylists caked on her. I think she looks better this way. She sits down next to me, and says nothing. After my tea comes, she waits another few moments before speaking quietly, staring at an invisible point on the wall. "What I'm going to tell you is _super_ secretive. For your sake as well as mine, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

I look Johanna in the eyes. "I promise."

"Okay. So maybe a month before the Victory Tour started, President Snow came to District 7. Okay, this is really _sick._ But I'm well liked in the Capitol, and he wanted to... sell me. Well, basically as a whore. And so, obviously, I said no. I already lost my sleep, my youth and my privacy when I was reaped. No need to lose my self respect and _virginity_." She tells me, letting it all out in a deep breath. I can tell that there's more. "A few days later, my best friend since I was a baby was charged with stealing, which is punishable by death. She was shot in the District Square. Snow comes back, tells me that every time I say no, somebody I care about dies. So I'm staying in the Capitol as a whore for a few weeks so my brother doesn't die. He's all I have left. So that's why Blight's mad at me. He told me that if Snow wants me to do something, I should do it regardless of how I feel, because he has no reservations about killing people."

I take a long sip of my tea before putting down on the side table. I hug her tightly, and she sniffles. "You're not alone in this, okay. I... also do that. I hate it and to be honest, it sucks, but my family is so important to me and their safety is what matters the most to me. So I suck it up and try to live with myself. And I will help you through this. We'll help each other."

"Sounds like a plan." She smiles at me, yawning. "I should go to bed, I guess. My prep team gets me up early to cake on makeup and get me dressed up." She stands up and gives me another hug. "Night. Try to get some sleep." I say bye to her, and flip through the television channels for maybe a half hour or so. I can't find anything I actually want to watch, so I give up and go to my room to try to get some sleep.

Halfway through a terrible nightmare, I hear some rustling and a loud noise. I jolt upright in bed, looking for the nearest object to use as a possible weapon for defense. I can't find anything, so I just try to calm myself down. It was probably nothing. A few seconds later, the door to my car opens, and in the dark I can make out the silhouette of a person. When they come closer, I see that it's Johanna in her panties and a tee shirt. She walks in sheepishly. "Hey," she mutters."Um, can I sleep in here tonight? I don't wanna be by myself."

"Yeah, sure." I smile at her, moving over to give her half of the bed. She's tiny and doesn't need all of the space, but I don't want her to feel like I'm not giving her any. I lie in the dark, awake, listening to her rhythmic breathing for I don't even know how long. Eventually, I _do_ fall asleep.

My sleep is restless, but I don't wake up until I hear a groan and a loud chuckle. During the night, somehow, I somehow got curled up next to Johanna. I sit up and see that Blight is giving Natalie a few bills. _Did they bet on us_? Ugh. "We're here to get Johanna. Go back to sleep." Blight tells us. Johanna sits up, yawns, and says goodbye before walking out of the car.

Natalie stays, sitting on the edge of my bed. He waits a few moments after Blight and Johanna left before speaking. "I really hope you didn't sleep with her, Finnick. You should save those _consensual_ times for people you're in long-lasting relationships. You don't want it to not mean anything-"

"We didn't do anything. She just didn't want to sleep alone." I cut her off, explaining the situation. I can't help but feel slightly embarrassed. It's weird that I don't like the idea of people thinking we had sex. For the short amount of time I've been... well, a _whore_, I've been open about sexual things. I've had countless conversations with Grant, Natalie, and Blight on sex, and it hasn't been awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. But now it is. Maybe it's because I actually care about Johanna.

"I believe you, Finnick." She smiles a little, and strokes my cheek. The way she says it is so genuine, I don't know what to say in response. "Just don't do anything stupid. You're gonna be seeing her for _years_, so if it gets awkward, it'll stay that way for a while." Natalie looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn't. Instead, she kisses my forehead, and turn the lights off as she walks out of the car.

I go back to sleep, since I'm in no rush and District 3 has no real appeal to me. It's very urban, like District 8, and the air is thick with smog. The victors from District 3 are nice, but they're all a lot older than me, and we really don't have much to talk about.

I wake up again around noon from a terrible nightmare where District 3's smog smothers me. I'm fine though, and I order a cup of tea and a couple rolls of bread from my bedside. Moments later, a Capitol attendant is in my room with the food, standing at the door awkwardly. "Thank you." I say, smiling at her. She blushes, her cheeks turning as pink as her hair, and sets the food down on my nightstand. Sometimes I forget that the Capitol is _in love_ with me, and how off guard she must have been when she came in here with me shirtless. Whatever. I doubt she minded that much.

I wander around the train for a little, but there's really nothing to do. Natalie, Blight and Johanna are all in District 3 right now, and I have no intention of joining them. I read some of the latest Capitol magazines, but they're really boring. There's one dedicated to just _purses_. You really only need one bag to put your stuff in anyways. I have to remind myself this is the Capitol, and they focus on wants, not needs. I wonder how they can take so much and leave so little for everyone else. Don't they ever wonder about the lives of us district-people? Or are we dehumanized by Snow and his government so they don't feel bad that we're fighting to the death for their entertainment? I don't even bother. Trying to understand the way their mind works is impossible.

Natalie gets on the train a few hours later. We play cards, and then watch a talk that Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith have. They're discussing the possible arena settings and themes that might happen for the next few games. I don't want to think about it – I'll have to come home, with at least one of my kids gone. They're not my children, but it feels like I've killed someone I was supposed to be watching over. I _am_ their mentor. But Natalie likes to speculate – she says it might help me figure out what gifts could help the kids the most. The Capitol audiences tend to dislike really cold or really hot climates, since most of the tributes die of overexposure, and there's little bloodshed. Woody areas, areas with water, and mixed-climate areas are popular.

They expect a small arena. Games with smaller arenas are a _lot_ shorter, since there's less places for people to hide. Also, smaller areas usually mean a Career will win. Larger areas mean more hiding spaces, so there can easily be no bloodshed for three or four days at a time. Nobody knows for sure, except the Gamemakers. And they're just as entertained by the Games as the rest of the Capitol is. Usually, there's trees or caves or some type of area in which one can be concealed. And there's almost never rain. Usually, three or four tributes die from dehydration, if they make it out of the bloodbath. Some years, top contenders die from exposure. It's not even about how good a certain tribute is, it's about how good everyone else is. If everyone is equally skilled, it doesn't matter what your training score is.

I don't really want to think about this though. Not now. I don't want to think about the Games at all, but that's more difficult now than ever before. I wish I could clear all the negativity out of my mind, the nightmares, and the pain. I realize I _can._ I excuse myself and tell Natalie I'm going to be around. I sneak down the hallway, into Natalie's car, and tiptoe into her room. I open up the outside pocket of her purse, and find her pack of cigarettes. I carefully pull one out, and grab a set of matches. I quietly zip her bag up, and tiptoe down the hallway to my room, careful not to walk into anyone. Maybe this'll work. I'm really desperate for anything.

* * *

**A/N: **How was that? If you liked it, make sure to review!

_Secrets_ fans: Don't worry, I'm working on your chapter right now!


End file.
